


White Collar: The Labyrinth

by Phoenix_crysg1



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture, Survival Horror, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:56:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 83
Words: 203,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_crysg1/pseuds/Phoenix_crysg1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Horror survival, psychological thriller, hurt/comfort type story. Kidnapped Neal and Peter find themselves held in a maze of forgotten tunnels beneath the city in a fight to keep themselves and each other alive. WARING: Violence, some gore, but *no* sex or anything of that nature.</p><p>  <img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kanarek13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/gifts).



> This is a trial chapter, I was inspired by the amazing art by Kanarek13 (Link to art rated PG-13, http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/178600.html) to do a dark hurt/comfort angst type story and this is the result. If enough people are interested in the premise I'll continue it. 
> 
> If I do go forward with this story it will be a lot darker than usual (closer in tone to White Rabbit, but without separating Neal and Peter the way they were for most of that story) and more true hurt/comfort than I usually do, more of a 'tested character study' than an intricately developed mystery. Just kinda testing the waters here since it seems like a fun genera to work with. I apologize this chapter is a little exposition heavy to set things up.

White Collar: The Labyrinth

Chapter One

"Left! Damn it, Neal, watch your left!"

Peter swore and winced in sympathy as Neal failed to heed his warning fast enough. Neal's larger opponent landed a solid bare knuckled strike across his left temple that turned his whole body and nearly dropped him to his right knee. It was the third hit he'd taken to that side in short order and this one opened a gash in his temple that pour blood down his face, blinding him in that eye, and leaving him more vulnerable to further attacks on that side. The keyed up crowd watching from behind the rail of their safe elevated position around the rectangular concrete pit roared in approval of the blood drawn. The noise echoing off the enclosed space added to the general chaos and the frantic pace of the vicious fight. Neal fought to reorient himself after the devastating blow but was close to collapse as he swung wildly and missed.

Separated from the action Peter paced restlessly at the set of bars that kept him from helping. He watched helplessly as Neal desperately tried to keep out of reach of the muscular man known as Danisko; who was not only larger than Neal but also far more skilled. Danisko could have had Neal knocked senseless by now but he was enjoying the cat and mouse game too much to end it prematurely. Trapped in the small cell under the upper level Peter snarled and yelled pointlessly as the fight became increasingly unfavorable against Neal.

Stripped to the waist and barefoot Neal's already lean frame had pulled tight enough to show off each muscle in stark definition and to the point where the ridges of his ribs could be seen through his middle back. Bruises in various stages of healing further marred Neal's dirty ivory skin from the abuse of the half dozen fights like the one he was currently losing. However the most striking mark was the now healed brand over Neal's heart, a pentagon with an impossible maze inside. Peter wore the brand as well, along with a host of battle scars and fresh wounds. He had long ago been forced to tie two of his belt loops together with a strip off his shirt to keep his slacks up on his narrowed hips. Peter's once white undershirt was unrecognizable as such having been stained through with blood, sweat, and grime from his own encounters in the arena and the general filth that came with a long term captivity.

With a wet sickly sound Peter coughed violently against the back of his hand spattering it with bright red blood. Ignoring the blood and the fever that was causing sweat to drip from his hair Peter looked up at the large bright red digital clock that was counting down at what felt like a painful slow cadence. Neal had fought through nearly nine minutes, he only had to make it through six more. However with as poorly suited for this match up as Neal was six minutes might as well be an eternity.

Fifteen minutes, that was the time limit to kill or be killed, after that the match was over even if both men were left standing. Peter didn't know how the point system worked for determining a winner when both parties walked away but the screaming crowd of betting spectators knew who was making or losing them money. All Peter knew about it was that for himself and Neal there was never any true 'winning', only surviving to fight again.

For Danisko he got what he had wanted the moment he'd stepped into the small underground arena, his debts to the house would be paid by the money brought in by the cover charge and the gambling that went along with the gory spectator sport. He didn't have to win the fight to get his reward, he just had to provide a good show. He didn't have to kill Neal either, but a chance to murder someone without consequence was a happy bonus for Danisko. Danisko and the others who chose to participate were freed from debts of both cash and honor. Neal and Peter were simply the other dogs in the fight with no reward or motivation beyond the drive to live.

Peter's stomach turned painful as Neal once again failed to keep his guard up and was punished for it by another powerful blow to his already bloodied left side. Watching more carefully Peter realized that Neal wasn't just neglecting to protect his off side, he was physically incapable of lifting his left shoulder more than forty-five degrees leaving him mostly defenseless against his right handed adversary. Using a trick that they had practice together Neal feigned more of a loss of balance than he'd actually suffered and was able to get in close to slam his open palm into Danisko's solar plexus.

Peter had taught Neal about the vulnerable cluster of nerves just below the breast bone and how best to protect himself from being struck there. Danisko was muscular enough to have absorbed the blow if he had been expecting the precision strike, but having assumed that his prey was too weak to properly attack he hadn't been ready for it. Stumbling back while sputtering for breath Danisko was momentarily incapacitated by the painful blow as the clock continued to countdown towards zero.

Too close to collapse to capitalize on Danisko's moment of weakness Neal scrambled backwards towards Peter for a quick break from the fight as Danisko recovered. Pressing his back hard into the bars that kept him separated from Peter and trapped in the arena Neal panted heavily for breath. Trembling violently from the excursion and his fast fading adrenaline Neal fought to keep standing. Peter reached through the bars and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"You've got this, Neal." Peter assured quietly.

Keeping his eyes on Danisko Neal reached up and put his hand over Peter's and squeezed it briefly to show he appreciated Peter's faith in him. Peter hated to push him away but as Danisko recovered he nudged Neal's shoulder to remind him that being backed up against the bars was a dangerous position to be in since it cut down his escape options. Neal nodded and stepped forward as Danisko recovered and turned his attention back to Neal with his lips pulled over his teeth in an angry snarl. There was just over a minute left in the fight but Neal had now enraged Danisko making him less interested in tormenting his opponent and more determined to simply kill him.

"Neal!"

This time Peter's warning came in time and Neal was able to step out of the way as Danisko rushed at him in a blind rage. Unable to stop his momentum Danisko slammed into the barred door that Neal had just been up against like a bull charging into the wall after being fooled by a matador's cape. It was against the 'rules' but Peter instantly lashed out and punched Danisko through the bars, breaking his nose with a satisfying crunch and a spray of blood. Danisko backed away clutching his bleeding face. Looking up he glared spitefully at Peter as the clock finally reached zero and a loud buzzer rang out.

With his pride injured more than anything else Danisko ignored the end of the match and launched himself at Neal once again. Neal never trusted the clock but after months worth of struggle and starvation he wasn't able to move out of the way quickly enough this time. Danisko caught Neal around the waist and drove them both to the hard concrete floor. Neal cried out in panic and put his palms against Danisko's chest to try and push him away to no affect. Pinning Neal to the floor with his weight Danisko wrapped his hands around Neal's throat with intent to kill.

"No! Neal!" Peter roared as he slammed his palm against the locked bars. "The fight is over! Open the gate! Neal!"

The crowd was cheering at the unusual turn of events as the fight continued despite the clock. They were all unsure what was going to happen since this was the one rule that had always been kept unbroken. Kicking against the floor Neal fought desperately to get out from underneath Danisko although he was quickly weakening. With Danisko pressing down on his throat Neal started to black out. Panicking Peter tore at the sturdy bars with no hope of moving them.

"Neal!"

"Agent." York's cold voice called from behind him.

The sound of their captor's voice never failed to send a chill down Peter spine and at the same time boil his blood in anger. He had no intention of taking his attention off Neal until he heard the distinct sound of metal against metal. Glancing over his shoulder Peter found that one of the guards was offering him a hand gun through the back bars of the cell. Peter instantly recognized the weapon as being his own, stolen from him at the beginning of this nightmare. With Neal seconds away from death Peter didn't have the time or the inclination to question the gift he just rushed over to retrieve it. York smiled as Peter returned to face the arena with the weapon held high. Losing consciousness in Danisko's tight grip Neal's bright blue eyes started to roll back to white. He only had one hand pressed against his attacker, his injured left shoulder having finally given out and was no longer able to offer any real resistant.

"Let him go!" Peter roared.

Peter didn't give Danisko a second warning, he didn't even give him a chance to process the first one. He had only barked the words out of pure habit from FBI training while he was lining up the shot. Without hesitation Peter fired once and struck Danisko center mass throwing him back and off of Neal. The crowd initial jerked back away from the rail around the arena at the sound of the gun fire but then erupted into cheering. They had come for a show, and they had not been disappointed. With Neal as safe as he could be for the moment Peter turned on York and tried to take him down with the gun as well. Peter was not surprised when the gun clicked impotently against an empty chamber but he'd had to try.

Dropping the useless weapon Peter turned his back on York to face the gate into the arena as he silently waited to be allowed to retrieve his fallen friend. Neal wasn't even trying to get up as he laid on his back heaving for breath as his throat turned bright red. Sprawled out on the floor Danisko was perfectly motionless with a slowly expanding puddle of blood underneath him. Peter hadn't been willing to take the chance to just injure him and had shot him through the heart. There was a click that let Peter know the barred door's automatic lock had been triggered, rolling the bars aside Peter ran out and knelt down next to Neal.

Watching Neal fight painfully to take each breath Peter suddenly wondered if he'd done the right thing or if he should have let Danisko end this for him. It had been easier to believe in waiting for rescue or a chance to escape in the beginning, but after all that had happened in their two months under ground it was difficult not to feel that death was the only release they were ever going to obtain.

Blinded by blood on one side and having trouble focusing with the other eye Neal jerked violently when Peter brushed his uninjured temple with the back of his hand to get his attention. Neal brought his right hand up and latched down on Peter's wrist with a painfully tight grip to attempt to defend himself, fearful that the match wasn't over and determined to fight to the last. When Peter didn't pull away or attack Neal made a better effort to try and figure out who he was. Beyond the confusion caused by the near asphyxiation and the moderate concussion he'd been suffering from Neal had the added difficulty of identifying the battle and captivity worn version of his friend that was looking down on him.

Neal smiled brightly exposing blood stained teeth as he finally recognized Peter through the haze of fear and pain. Despite everything Peter managed a smile as well at seeing that Neal hadn't given up on the war even if he hadn't fared particularly well during this battle. Trusting that it was safe to do Neal closed his eyes and relaxed as he allowed himself to pass out now that he has his guardian back. Peter didn't have to press his fingers against Neal's throat to make sure his pulse was strong, he could see the pool of blood that had collected in the divot between Neal's collar bones pulsing from the pounding heartbeat beneath the surface. Slipping one hand under Neal's shoulder blades and the other behind his knees Peter effortlessly lifted him up off the gore soaked floor. The months of fighting had taken a heavy physical toll but at the same time had strengthened them both inside and out the way heat and pressure strengthened steel in a forge.

Holding Neal protectively against his chest Peter didn't bother looking up at the upper level and the men gathered there. They were just a collection of criminals, both organized and free lance, and none of them had any interest in helping them. In fact in the past Peter had recognized a number of faces belonging to men with a personal grudge against himself and/or Neal who openly enjoyed betting against them.

Carrying Neal Peter stepped back into the cell that attached to the arena so that he could take Neal back to the small network of rooms that he and Neal had been calling home. The abandoned maze of old abandoned tunnels and structures below the city subway that had been turned into a modern day Colosseum. Peter and Neal weren't the only ones being held in the underground labyrinth, they had learned that mob rivals, enemies of the rich and ruthless, and snitches of all kinds ended up down here. Some could earn their freedom and status back, others had been branded with the mark of the Labyrinth and condemned to a slow but inevitable execution.

York was still waiting for him, flanked by his vigilant guards. He smiled at his most profitable pair, in addition to those paying off a debt some men paid good money for a chance to enact some cathartic revenge on a Federal Agent or a informant rat. Even if Peter or Neal hadn't been the ones personally to blame they still made good representatives of an 'authority figure' and a 'traitor' for anyone with extra cash and a blood rage to work off.

York slipped his hands into his pockets and chuckled at Peter. Closing his eyes briefly against a flash of animalistic rage Peter wondered if there was anyway he could buy his way into fifteen minutes in the ring with York. It wasn't often that Peter saw the owner of the sadistic fight club, but every time he did it renewed his resolve to live long enough to take him down one way or another. Holding Neal closer Peter opened his eyes and glared openly at York's smug expression.

"I told you that eventually you'd kill for me, Agent Burke."

"I didn't do it for you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Trust me, Mr. Caffrey, you are going to want to bite down on that."

"Wait, please, what ar…"

Neal didn't get a chance to ask for an explanation nor was he offered one. His captors simply took his plea as a chance to force a thick strip of cloth between his teeth and use it to further pin him to the cold rough floor. Laying on his back with someone sitting on his hips Neal's bound hands dug into his lower back as he fought to free himself. Blindfolded and still hazy from the drugs lingering in his system Neal was sucking for breath in his panicked state. Adrenaline poured into his blood as his body did everything it could think of to try and help him escape from the sudden violent turn of events in his life.

This morning had started off much like any other over the past few years had. Neal hadn't thought it was going to be possible at first but he had actually fallen into a routine of getting up and going to 'work', he'd even grown to enjoy it. Working with Peter was often fun, certainly a challenge, and it had brought about an unexpected friendship. Although Neal was still counting the days till the FBI wasn't tracking his every move. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with that particular freedom, but he still wanted it. As the years passed and he was getting closer to his release date Mozzie had been pointing out more and more frequently that Neal needed to chose a side and a lifestyle, but that was far easier said than done.

Stepping out of the shower Neal could hear his phone ringing in the other room. Assuming it was Peter Neal wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed a spare one for his hair and trailed water across the hardwood floor as he went to answer it. Picking up the smartphone with one hand while he started to dry his unruly hair with the other Neal furrowed his brow at the 'unknown' number that came up. Since it was much too early in the morning for Mozzie to be calling him he considered letting it go to voice mail, but with a shrug he decided to answer.

"Hello?"

"Neal, we have a problem." Mozzie greeted.

"Of course we do. What's wrong?"

"The Lizard is missing."

"By that I'm going to hopefully assume you mean Anthony and not some new exotic pet running loose in your house."

"Neal, this is serious."

"Is it?" Neal asked doubtfully.

"Anthony and I were supposed to meet last night for…reasons."

"You can tell me what you were up to, Moz, I'm not at the office yet. Peter's not listening in."

"You can't know that." Mozzie said seriously.

"Mozzie." Neal said in a warning tone.

"I'm just worried, this was not the kind of opportunity that Anthony would miss, and remember how Brian just seemingly skipped town a few months ago? Yeah, he's not back either. I don't like it."

"We don't exactly associate with the most reliable people, Moz. Richie was gone for almost two years before he told you that he'd been extradited and you two were fairly close, at least close-ish."

"Neal…"

"How many times have you just disappeared on me without any explanation either before or afterward?"

"Never." Mozzie said indignantly. "Well, once…maybe twice."

"Six times."

"Seven if you count that trip to Tibet I didn't tell you about." Mozzie admitted.

"See? I'm sure everything is fine."

"Didn't Anthony help you out a few cases ago?" Mozzie pressed.

"I helped him out." Neal corrected. "I caught him in the middle of our case, he gave me some information on the higher ups in the ring, and in return I made sure that he didn't end up getting caught up in the cross fire when Peter and I made the bust."

"Made the bust?" Mozzie repeated distastefully. "So, what? Does this mean that you have CIs of your own now?"

"No, I just did Anthony a favor that worked out well for me as well. My larger point is that Anthony probably got spooked from almost getting caught. I'm sure he's just laying low."

"Yeah, alright." Mozzie said begrudgingly. "But what if…"

"I've got to get to the office, Moz." Neal interrupted. "I'm already running late and I'm not even dressed yet."

"Ugh. What did I tell you about answering your phone naked?" Mozzie huffed. "It's rude, and it disturbs me."

"I have a towel." Neal chuckled.

"Not good enough…wait, you're working with the Suit today?" Mozzie asked sounding surprised.

"It's Thursday," Neal pointed out "so yes."

"Thursday…right, I knew that. Have fun, try not to arrest anyone we know unless I owe them money."

Neal just hung up the phone. He chalked Anthony's missing the meeting to Mozzie not even know what day it was and got ready to meet Peter at the office. Opening the door to his apartment Neal headed downstairs. June was in the front drawing room enjoying a morning cup of coffee so he walked over to her.

"Good morning, June."

"Morning, Neal. Running a bit late, aren't you?"

"Mozzie."

"Say no more." June chuckled. "Oh, Neal, this was slipped under the front door this morning. I assume it's for you."

June got up and crossed over to the side table. She picked up a white post card and handed it to Neal. Neal took the card made of heavy high quality cotton paper, the kind that he would use for watercolor painting. At first it appeared to be blank, but closer inspection showed that it was embossed with a symbol of a hexagon with a simple maze pattern inside. Unsure of what to think of the card Neal thanked June for it and put it in his pocket.

Arriving at the Federal Building Neal jaunted up the small flight of stairs and stepped into Peter's office. Sitting at his desk filling out a case file Peter looked up and smiled as Neal sat down, he was always in a good mood after they closed a case and yesterday they had closed a major one. Leaning forward Neal took the rubber band ball off Peter's desk and idly played with it.

"Good morning, Neal."

"Morning, Peter. Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay, I'm just finishing up the Patterson case file. I have a few new cases that you can look through, see if anything grabs your attention."

"Right, there's always another case isn't there?" Neal chuckled ruefully.

"I try to think of it as job security."

"That's very 'bright side' of you, Peter." Neal teased.

Peter just shrugged and continued to fill out the paperwork he was working on. Neal put down the rubber band ball and went to pick up the small pile of blue file folders that were sitting on Peter's desk. On top of the first folder was a simple white card exactly like the one June had given Neal this morning. Picking up the card with a small knot developing in his stomach Neal held it up to the light and inspected the maze symbol on it.

"Peter, what is this?"

"Oh, right." Peter looked up. "I was going to ask you about that. I found that in my mailbox this morning. Does it mean anything to you?"

"No, but I got one too." Neal took his own card out of his pocket and handed it to Peter.

"…that's probably not a good sign."

Neal's memory of the day ended at exactly that point. He highly doubted that he'd been drugged and kidnapped from Peter's office in the Federal Building, but he had no images in his mind as to what had happened next and he hadn't been in the right frame of mind to try and figure it out when he'd woken up bound and blindfolded. With his blood running ice cold in the dark Neal had called out to see if he was alone.

"Peter?"

"Your partner's here, Mr. Caffrey," a dead calm voice purred "he just doesn't handle his Rohypnol as well as you do."

"Who are you?" Neal demanded.

"You can call me York. I'm an entrepreneur, a business man, and a revenge proxy. I'm very fond of your earlier work, Mr. Caffrey, but that's neither here nor there."

"Wha…"

Neal cried out breathlessly as someone suddenly sat down heavily on his hips to hold him down even though he hadn't even had a chance to try and get up yet. Fearful of being further restrained Neal thrashed as he best he could while another attacker tried to forced a rolled up cloth between his teeth.

"Trust me, Mr. Caffrey, you are going to want to bite down on that."

"Wait, please, what ar…"

Neal was cut off by the rough cloth that was placed between his teeth and pressed down on to keep his head against the floor. With the cloth cutting into the corners of his mouth Neal gagged against the metallic tasting trickle of blood that ran down his throat as he struggled to breath. Everything was happening so fast and all he knew about it was he was in trouble. His heart slammed against his chest as the man on his stomach ripped open his shirt before putting his palms on his shoulders to ensure that he stayed perfectly still. Neal was able to kick and he pushed his foot against the floor with all his strength to try and twist and throw the man sitting on him off balance. However whoever it was they weren't just large they were powerful as well and they didn't budge.

"Personally I find this part distasteful but it's really the best way to make sure there aren't any mix ups later." York sighed as if things were beyond his control. "Anyway, take a deep breath, you're going to need it."

Neal instinctively went against his tormentors suggestion and held his breath as he was frozen in a moment of anticipation. However when he felt a radiating heat over his heart Neal took a sharp breath in horrified realization of what was about to happen. Before he could brace himself against it a firm hand pressed a red hot piece of iron against his chest that sizzled and spat angrily. Instantly in sent into shock it didn't even hurt at first, in fact the contact with the branding tool gave him a flash of a powerful icy sensation as his confused nervous system reacted to the devastatingly high temperature by firing on all cylinders to get his attention as quick as possible in hopes that he'd do something to stop what was happening. His instinctive brain did its best to sort out the explosion of information while it automatically issued a general state of emergency to his entire body.

The sensors in his skin for temperature raced their confused message noticeably faster than the nerves set up to alert him to pain. However, between the space of two heartbeats the intense paradoxical cold transformed into a searing torture resulting in a wash of pain that crescendoed several seconds after the initial injury. The pain was followed by a surge of adrenaline that only heightened Neal's senses and in this case worked against him since he could neither fight nor flight. Straining every muscle at the overpowering agony and the flood of hormones that accompanied it Neal bite down hard on the cloth between his teeth and screamed as his nervous system sang out in protest against the ruined flesh.

With their work done the men released Neal but the pain still lanced through his chest and there was an acrid stench of burnt skin that further twisted his already sour stomach. With the cloth torn away from between his teeth Neal spent a moment just trying to collect himself. Even though he knew he needed to fight back somehow he found it nearly impossible to make any move towards escape as his senses reeled dizzily with pain and panic.

Managing to almost control the distracting pain that was slowly transforming to a pulsing ache Neal swallowed hard to keep himself from being sick. Not really caring about anything else at the moment other than the fact that he wasn't actively being tormented Neal laid as still as his trembling would allow and tried to figure out what was happening. Just as he was starting to regain his breath Neal jerked sharply at the sound of what he could only assume was the men tearing open Peter's shirt as they turned there attention to their unconscious prey.

"Peter!" Neal cried in panic. "No, please don't hurt him!"

Neal knew his plea for mercy fell on deaf ears as the hissing of hot metal against skin caused his own recent injury to flare again in sympathy. The nauseating smell of char was quickly followed by a startled cry that turned into a howl of pain as the branding violently tore Peter back into an unfortunate consciousness. Disoriented from being thrown into a life-threatening situation he didn't understand he roared again like an angry wounded bear as he woke to pain and injury that lacked any context or warning. Going through the same automatic responses to a sever burn it wasn't long before Peter was left panting heavily.

"Peter, ar…" Neal was cut off with a breathless cry as he was kicked in the ribs.

"Neal? Neal! Don't hurt him!" Peter begged.

"Right to worrying about one another, that's kinda sweet." York mused. "You two really do have some twisted Stockholm/Lima syndrome thing going on, don't you? It will be interesting to see if you're both still so selfless when you're fighting over who eats and who starves. It's amazing how fast men turn into dogs when they get hungry."

"I am a Federal Agent!" Peter snarled menacingly at his unseen captor as he fell back on his FBI training.

"I know, I've got your badge right here." York taunted. "I'm going to use it as a paperweight for now. Don't worry, I'll mail it back to your wife along with some flowers after you're dead."

"Don't you dar…"

"Do you want the card to read 'Elizabeth', 'El', or maybe just 'Hon'?"

Neal knew that whatever it took Peter was about to attack York and when he tried Neal took the opportunity of the distraction to lash out as well. Kicking wildly Neal caught the shin of one of York's men who yelped in pain and surprise. It was really the only solid hit Neal managed to land before being winded by a sharp kick to the stomach. Although he couldn't see hearing Peter retching told him he had been similarly subdued.

"Are you two done?" York asked like a disproving parent of a pair of rowdy children. "You know when your sponsor first approached me about you two I said 'fuck off, I'm not tangling with the FBI or their collared pets'. However I have to say that I'm pleased he insisted on giving me more money than I could refuse to take him on as client. You two are going to be entertainment like no others."

"You can't do this to us!" Peter snarled.

"I can't?" York repeated in mock surprise. "Let's experiment with that theory."

When Neal suddenly found someone on top of him again to hold him down he braced himself for another painful assault. Neal grit his teeth to try to keep silent but when his attacker slammed his palm down on the fresh burn he suddenly found himself wailing in a tortured voice that he didn't even recognize as being his own.

"Neal!" Peter cried desperately. "Please, stop!"

"Stop? I've barely begun."

"I'm going to kill you!" Peter spat venomously.

"I highly doubt that, but you are going to kill for me, you both will. Welcome to the Labyrinth, Boys."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Taking a deep slow breath to try and clear his thoughts Peter did his best to block out the throbbing ache in his chest that flared sharply every time he moved. He had his torn shirt open to keep the fabric from sticking to the geometric wound that perfectly matched the design on the card he and Neal had received earlier in the day. Sitting on the cold concrete floor with his back up against the wall Peter spent a moment trying to piece together his broken memory, but decided he was too exhausted to make much sense of how he and Neal had ended up in such dire straights. Despite it being August Peter shivered slightly causing a chill to race prickling goosebumps across his skin, angering the burn mark further. The cold stone floor was sapping his body heat away faster than his stressed system could replace it.

In an attempt to keep at least one of them warm Peter had propped Neal up between his legs to help keep him up off the concrete as much as he could. Laying peacefully with his back against Peter's stomach Neal remained locked in an unnatural sleep. With his arms loosely wrapped around Neal's waist Peter kept a watchful eye out in case their captor returned or some other threat presented itself. Neal's ruined shirt was open as well showing off the left side of his chest that was swollen and a bright cherry red around the hexagon maze brand that was oozing a translucent yellow liquid. Peter hadn't been able to see what they were doing to him at the time, but Neal had screamed under the torment until he had passed out as one of York's men exploited the raw nerves exposed by the fresh burn.

Peter had oscillated between threats and pleads but neither one of them had gained Neal any mercy. It had only taken a few minutes however it had felt like an hour before they had managed to push Neal past the point of his endurance. York had taunted Neal for losing consciousness so quickly commenting that they would have to work on strengthen his limits. With the additional damage they had done to Neal's chest along with the drugs still in his system along, and the stress of the violent kidnapping Peter was impressed that Neal had lasted as long as he had.

"I've never had a pair quite like you two to work with before." York had said conversationally to Peter once Neal was out. "It will be an interesting social experiment."

"York, let him go." Peter had demanded as calmly as he could mange. "This has nothing to do with Neal, this is between you and I."

"No it isn't." York chuckled. "This isn't personal, Agent Burke, this is business, and Mr. Caffrey is here for the exact same reason you are. It was a nice try, but you two are very much in this together."

Peter had never assumed that York would let Neal go at this point, however his pointless demand had answered the question he had on whether or not York's client was someone from his own past, Neal's, or as it turned out: both. It narrowed down the vast list of suspects to enemies Neal and he had in common. Also learning the fact that this was 'business' could work to their advantage as well, if the risk of keeping them became greater than the profits they might be released.

"...or just left to starve." Peter sighed to himself.

Fighting a pang of claustrophobia Peter fought off the moment of hopelessness and looked around the twelve by twenty concrete room. Before he left York had his men cut the zip ties that were keeping them both bound and after a nauseating kick to Peter's stomach they had left the pair alone. Pulling off his tie that had been used as a makeshift blindfold Peter had rushed to Neal's side and pulled his blindfold off as well. Neal had pulled at the zip ties to the point of bloodying his wrists when he'd struggled against York's man torturing him. With his breath ragged and shallow Neal's heart had been racing dangerously at first, but given a little time and gentle touch he had calmed. Neal had fluttered his eyes open to look up at Peter with a brief flash of relieved recognition, but afterwards he had quickly passed out again.

Once Peter was sure that Neal was at least medically stable enough to be trusted to keep breathing on his own he had taken a quick look around their new situation. The room they had been brought into had a steel door on one wall and an open archway on the opposite wall. The arch way lead to a short hallway that had one door off to the right and one straight ahead. The side door was locked, the one at the end of the hall opened into a ten by ten room that had been converted into a bathroom. There was a metal sink, a medicine cabinet, a toilet and a shower that was little more than a pipe coming out of the wall over a drain.

Testing the shower to see if it actually worked Peter had been surprised to find the water was luke-warm rather than freezing cold. Doubting that it came from a water heater it meant that the piping ran along something warm. Opening the medicine cabinet Peter had found a few basic supplies that were obviously brand new. The fact that they had been provided with a set of toothbrushes, along with access to what he hoped was clean water and a bar of soap spoke of a pre-planned extended captivity. You didn't bother with hygiene supplies if you only planed on keeping someone for a few days.

The idea of York not wanting them dead immediately or having a near deadline to execute them if demands weren't met had advantages. The longer they survived the longer their odds of rescue weren't zero, however no matter what the circumstances were rescue had its greatest success rate in the first forty-eight hours. If York was interacting with the FBI to either taunt or make demands he could still make mistakes past that forty-eight hour window. On the other hand if York had taken them with no intentions of ransom or release the FBI would only have what evidence they had from the start. If they didn't figure out where they were quickly their chance of being found would drop dramatically with each passing day. Guessing that ten to fourteen hours had passed already Peter's stomach twisted painfully at fact that by now Hughes would have gone to Elizabeth to let her know her husband was missing.

Elizabeth would be brave during the first forty-eight. It would be a difficult two days, but Peter had every faith that she would weather them well. If this drew out into a week or longer she wouldn't give up on him but it would be impossible for her not to imagine the worse. A sickening pit developed in Peter's already sour stomach over the thought of never seeing Elizabeth again. The death of a loved one always left a void in your life, but when someone just disappears it was a far more difficult separation to accept. Confirmation of death brought a closure that helped heal the wound, the uncertainty of not knowing acted more like an infection making the loss worse as time passed. Even trying to move on and accept that they weren't coming home felt more like a betrayal when you didn't know if your loved one was somewhere in pain still holding onto hope of seeing you again.

Peter quickly shook off the dark thoughts of never returning home, York hadn't let them see his face so that meant he was at least cautious about the idea that his captives might live to press charges. Peter reminded himself that he and Neal's chances were better than most, they had the best looking for them. They also had the added advantage that the FBI would have been alerted to the problem the second Neal's anklet had been cut. They would also have a digital record of their movements in the moments leading up to abduction which would give the investigating a solid starting point. Even if the trail went cold the FBI did not give up easily when it came to one of their own. He and Neal just had to live long enough for their captor to make a mistake and for the FBI to capitalize on it.

Peter's attention was brought back to the present as he looked up at the damp concrete ceiling as a sudden deep rumbling punctuated by a distant metallic squeal interrupted the near perfect silence. The sound of the subway above gave Peter a few pieces of information, the first he had already guessed by the cold damp was the fact that they were under the city. By the sound they seemed to be a good twenty to thirty feet deeper than the subway, however more important that their location the subway also gave him a sense of time. He was waiting to see if their artificial day was going to have an artificial night to go along with it, but so far the dim florescent lights had remained on. However, when he'd first taken notice of the subway it had seemed to run by every twenty to thirty minutes. Now it took closer to an hour or more now meaning it was getting later at night. Depending on the line there might even come a point where it stopped running completely. Although it was somewhat comforting to hear signs of life above there was no real telling where under the city they were. The depths of New York had dozens of abandoned subway stations, maintenance tunnels, failed private projects, and cold war era bunkers.

Peter was distracted from the subway as Neal started to slowly surface. Whimpering in pain as he struggled between nightmare and reality Neal started to pant for breath. Peter took his arms away from around Neal's waist, not wanting him to feel like he was restrained when he finally woke. The painful branding had been a shocking way to wake for Peter the first time and resurfacing to the injury was going to be similarly difficult for Neal now. Pursing his lip Peter blew a cooling stream of air across Neal's injury to afford him some temporary relief as he came to his senses. Despite Peter's efforts Neal woke with a sharp hiss of breath across his teeth as his body reminded him what it had been through. Reaching out to one of the legs to either side of him and discovering it didn't belong to him Neal tensed as he tried to figure out his surrounds.

"It's okay, Neal, it's me." Peter assured. "You're okay."

Not trusting his voice Neal nodded slightly as he relaxed. After taking a moment to take stock in his situation Neal tried to shift his weight only to be rewarded by a sharp stab of pain. Giving up on moving Neal rested against Peter with a noise of frustration.

"Neal?"

"...ow." Neal complained.

"Deep breath."

Taking Peter's advice Neal took a deep breath and although the chest movement aggravated the burn it also helped him modulate the pain and take control of it. Managing to convince himself that it wasn't so bad Neal leaned forward carefully so that he could sit up on his own. With Neal off him Peter took the opportunity to tuck his legs under himself to get up off the concrete somewhat. His backside was numb from being in the same position on the hard floor for the past few hours but that was the least of his concerns right now. Turning around to face him Neal inspected the mark on Peter's chest with a wince of true empathy.

"How are you doing?" Neal asked concerned.

"I'm fine."

"We should have taken those cards more seriously." Neal teased pragmatically.

"York certainly has my attention now."

"Mine too." Neal licked his dry lips and looked around. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours."

"You should have woken me."

"You needed the sleep."

"You need to get some rest as well."

"Later." Peter said dismissively. "Right now we have to decide if we are going to stay put and wait for rescue that may or may not arrive soon or take our chances out there."

"What? Out where?"

Peter made a motion for Neal to look over his shoulder. Turning around Neal studied the steel door set in the far wall for a moment. He turned an incredulous look on Peter.

"Is it my imagination or is that door locked from our side?"

"It's not your imagination."' Peter confirmed. "I looked out earlier, it's a disused maintenance tunnel of some sort."

"Hmmmm. Seems like a fairly amateur kidnapping mistake to put the lock on the wrong side."

"York is no amateur, this is not the first time he's done this."

"He did call himself a 'Revenge Proxy'." Neal agreed.

"A proxy?"

"Everything is getting outsourced these days." Neal chuckled.

Although it usually annoyed him Peter took comfort in Neal's caviler attitude to their situation. A strong sense that things were going to work out in the end was going to be important in the days to come. Putting his palm against the floor Neal pushed himself up to his feet before he offered his hand to Peter to help him up as well which Peter accepted. Once standing Peter stretched the kink out of his back before turning his attention to Neal.

"I take it you want to head out?"

"If we are going to be rats in a maze we have to at least try and find a way out."

"Agreed." Peter nodded. "If York has underestimated us we might even get lucky."

"He has definitely underestimated us." Neal smiled confidently. "He wouldn't have agreed to bring us down here in the first place if he hadn't."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"It seems clear."

"Oddly enough that doesn't really put me at ease." Neal admitted.

"Me either. Alright, let's go. Watch your step."

Neal assumed York's men had taken their belts and shoes to keep them from using them as weapons, but seeing the gritty debris littered hallway he wondered if they'd taken the shoes more to slow them down during any escape effort. Peter had spent a good five minutes looking up and down the dimly light hallway before stepping cautiously out. They were both in agreement that exploring around was exactly what their captors expected and probably wanted them to do, but there was no sense in just sitting in the room waiting for their tormentors to return.

Neal looked up at the lighting system that had been rigged into the conduit and metal electrical piping that ran along the ceiling. It was just a string of wire that held a simple light bulb every fifteen feet which made for brights spots that lead into dark gaps in between. There were places in the sides of the wall where the original florescent lighting fixtures were still in place, but they weren't in use.

"It looks like they've rerouted power from an outside source to light the place." Neal commented.

"So they don't have to worry about someone noticing that there is power being drawn down here and coming to check it out. We should try and keep track of where we are going in case we need to get back and to try and keep from going in circles."

"That's easy enough. Which way to you want to go first?"

"Let's go right."

"Okay, hang on."

Neal trotted off to the left until he came to the next light bulb. Pulling a folded handkerchief out of his pocket he used it to protect his hand as he reached up and unscrewed the bulb just enough to make it go dark. Neal was instantly plunged into an inky darkness and hurried back to the circle of light that Peter was standing in.

"Every time we make a turn we just turn the light off on the choice we don't pick."

"Good thinking. Let's go. Keep a sharp ear out, we are likely to hear someone long before we can see them."

Neal nodded and followed closely behind as Peter headed to the right down the still lit end of the corridor. They came to a T intersection first and in the interest of not making a circle they headed left after Neal darkened the right option. Later they could explore that direction by turning the light back on if need be. The subway above had gone quiet leaving the pair in an eerie silence that was only broken by their own breathing and the occasional squeak of a startled rat. Being barefoot was uncomfortable on the dirty concrete floor but it did allow for them to travel stealthily.

"Smile." Neal said as he pointed out a small camera in the ceiling.

Peter swore under his breath as he looked up at the camera that Neal had spotted among the pipe work. Neal had a suspicion that it wasn't the first camera they had passed, the small devices blended in well into the surroundings. Neal could reach the lower hanging bulbs but he couldn't get to the camera stuck to the ceiling. Peter laced his fingers together and crouched down slightly to offer his hands as a foothold to give Neal a step up. Putting his hand on Peter's shoulder Neal carefully put his foot in Peter's hands.

"1, 2, 3…" Neal counted before using Peter's help to jump up and snatched down the camera. He inspected the wireless device that was about the size of a deck of cards for a moment before handing it over to Peter. "It's a game camera, not video."

"Snaps a pic when it senses motion and wirelessly sends it off." Peter agreed. "York knows we're on the move."

"He doesn't seem to care."

"He's letting us wander around, but he still controls the exits."

"We'll see about that."

Neal wasn't as optimistic as he was trying to sound, but it helped him with the growing sense of claustrophobia. The longer they traveled through the maze of tunnels the more hopeless finding a way out felt. Eventually they came to a dead end that was actually an open elevator shaft. With the last light a good ten feet away the inside of the shaft was shrouded in complete darkness making it difficult to tell how far up or down it went. There was no mechanism to call the elevator down at this level.

"Here, hold on." Neal held his hand out to Peter. "Make sure I don't fall."

Peter nodded and braced his feet before taking Neal's wrist. Neal winced as Peter held on tight to his wrist that was encircled with cuts and bruising from when he's fought against the plastic zip ties. Putting his free hand on the edge of the open archway Neal leaned out into the dark free space as far as he dared. Looking up Neal whistled sharply once to see how the sound would bounce. The hollow echo told him that the elevator was probably fifty feet above them. Repeating the same trick only this time looking down revealed that the shaft only traveled ten to fifteen feet down. It wasn't a perfect estimate but it was close enough for their purposes.

"There might be one more floor below us, but I don't see any light down there." Neal said as he stepped back into the hallway. "There could be an emergency ladder up the far side of the shaft."

"We can't just jump across and hope to grab a hold of something."

"The elevator carriage would probably be between us and any exit anyway."

"An emergency exit shaft is a good thought though, these tunnels should have them scattered around in case of collapse."

Neal didn't like just leaving the obvious exit, but there wasn't really any good way to try and use that wouldn't end poorly. Even at just a story down the bottom of the shaft could be a deadly drop depending on what was down there. Retracing their steps they went back to their last turn and went the other direction turning off the light that lead back to the elevator and turning on the one that they had unscrewed on their way by the first time.

Neal had completely lost track of time during their cautious wandering, as well as any kind of sense of how large the underground network was. It was difficult to keep track of distances when everything looked basically the same. They had come across a few dozen doors but so far they had all been locked. They hadn't dared knock to see if anyone was behind the doors not knowing if they'd find friends or foes. Turning down another hallway that looked just like all the others Peter suddenly came to a stop about half way down. Neal bumped into him and was about to ask why he stopped when he got the answer for himself. There was a powerful acrid rotting odor that they had hit like a brick wall.

"That is disgusting." Neal complained as his stomach turned. "What is that?"

"Death."

Neal turned a startled look on Peter who was staring down the hallway with all of the intensity of a bird dog on a pheasant. Neal automatically took a step back but Peter started forward towards the source of the sickening stench. After taking a moment to make sure he was going to be able to keep control of his stomach Neal followed after Peter. The scent got exponentially stronger as they neared the end of the hall until it reached a point where it made Neal's eyes water.

"Peter, I really think we should turn back."

"Stay here."

Despite the request when Peter kept going Neal followed him. Reaching a door at the end of the hall Peter looked over his shoulder at Neal to make sure that he was prepared for what was most likely going to be a gruesome sight. Neal wasn't really sure how to prepare for such a thing so he just nodded. Peter nodded as well and opened the door.

Neal had hoped that what they were smelling was just an animal that had crawled down here and died, however with the door open they discovered the desiccating corpses of three men. Stacked up against the back wall they'd had a large amount of Quick Lime poured over them to try and cut down on the rotting process. The damaging effects of the Lime gave the bodies a somewhat mummified appearance. The body on the top of the horrific pile looked fresher than the other two and it was the fact that it didn't have as much Lime on it that had allowed part of the abdomen to distend and cause the powerful scent of rot. Gagging slightly Peter stepped into the room.

"Peter, wait, what are you doing?"

"I have to check something."

"I'm pretty sure they're dead. We need to get out of here."

Peter ignored Neal and carefully stepped up to the corpses. Trying to keep his bare feet out of the caustic Lime Peter leaned over and reached out to hook his finger into the collar of the filthy and torn shirt that the top corpse was wearing. Tugging on the shirt Peter pulled it down far enough to expose the maze pattern branded into the dead man's chest. Neal's own fresh burn throbbed in time with his racing heart as he stared at the man's marred rotting skin. His already rebelling stomach twisted harder at the implications. Unlike the raw brands he and Peter wore the dead man's mark had had time to fully heal into a scar before he had been released from the Labyrinth by death.

"Peter…"

"Just because they didn't make it doesn't mean we won't." Peter interrupted. "Come on, let's keep moving."

More than happy to leave Neal backed quickly out of the room that had been used as a dumping ground for York's previous victims. Neal tried to take heart in the idea that the other man had lived long enough for his brand to become a scar, it suggested that York didn't plan on killing them quickly and that meant the FBI had more time to find them. On the other hand it also proved that York was skilled at keeping prisoners and Neal knew the forty-eight hour rule just as well as anyone else. Retreating back down the hall they returned to the intersection and chose another path in hopes that it would lead to an escape even though they were both quickly losing faith in the idea of finding an easy way out. Traveling down a new hall it was Neal's turn to stop short. He reached out and grabbed the back of Peter's jacket to stop him since he was a pace ahead.

"Do you hear that?" Neal whispered.

Neal held his breath while he waited for the sound to repeat itself. He and Peter both jolted slightly when the sound of distant voices echoed around them. They both instantly assumed that the voices belonged to York's men, but they quickly realized that they could also belong to additional captives or even a rescue team. With the way the halls distorted the sound it was impossible to tell what they were saying.

Peter just looked to Neal who nodded his silent agreement that they had to investigate the voices. Walking carefully towards the sound Neal and Peter froze when the sound was very suddenly closer and rang with the mirth of group laughter. The awkward acoustics of the concrete maze had made it difficult to tell exactly where the sound had been coming from until it was too late. Five men rounded the corner about fifteen feet ahead of them and by sheer luck went to turn the other direction to head away from them. Near one of the shadowy patches between the lights of the hallway Peter and Neal risked staying motionless in hopes of not being spotted. The last of the men was just about to follow the others when he glanced in Peter and Neal's direction before doing a double take and calling the pair standing in the hall to the group's attention.

Peter stepped slightly in front of Neal and instinctively drew his shoulders back to appear as tall as possible. He and Neal both knew that if they automatically ran they would instantly be chased so they risked standing their ground for the moment. The obvious leader of the small group locked eyes onto Peter and pushed one of the other men out of his way to step forward. The way Peter tensed when the man stepped fully into the light gave Neal the sinking feeling that Peter recognized him and from the looks of him they probably weren't social friends.

"Burke?" The large man asked with a cruel smile as he stepped slowly forward "And just when I thought my luck had all but run out. Who's your pretty friend?"

"Sawyer," Peter addressed the man ignoring his question as he backed up "look, I know we've had our differences…"

"Differences?" Sawyer snarled as he continued to approach. "I spent five years locked up because of you."

"Peter…" Neal said urgently as he backed up with Peter.

"That's not my fault, you know that." Peter continued to try and deescalate the situation. "Look, clearly we're all in the same danger here…"

"That's where you are very much mistaken," Sawyer chuckled "I don't have a brand, but there is no way you're down here without one and that means you're fair game."

"Sawy…"

Neal had feared that negotiations were never going to work from the start and when Sawyer went to lunge forward Neal grabbed Peter and jerked him back and then used that momentum to help turn him around. Facing back the way they'd come Neal and Peter broke out into a dead run as the men behind them did the same. Coming to the first intersection it was easy to use the lights to guide them back towards their original room that held a lock, but after all the time exploring neither one of them were quite sure just how far they'd had to run to get there.

Neal could easily out run either Sawyer or Peter but he kept pace with Peter to keep from leaving him behind. After six turns down the maze of interconnected tunnels guided by the lights Neal went to look over his shoulder to see how close the men were. Sawyer's gang wasn't as interested in a chase and had fallen back. Sawyer was about twenty feet back but still determined to pursue them. When Neal when to look forward again he made a misstep and went to fall. Peter lashed out and caught Neal around the waist and manged to keep him upright at the cost of slowing down allowing Sawyer to close some of the distance between them. Several turns later Sawyer was still managing to keep up. Coming to a T intersection Neal finally recognized the hallway ahead as being their starting point.

"Neal, just go!" Peter ordered. "Get the door!"

Picking up his pace Neal made it to the door and skidded to a halt. Throwing the door open he held it open. Peter wasn't far behind and raced through the open door. He grabbed Neal's lapel on the way by and hauled him into the room as well. With one hand still on the door handle Neal slammed it shut and threw the bolt on the lock. Sawyer crashed into the door seconds later with a furious roar.

"I'm going to get you, Piggy, and your little bitch too!"

"Was that a Wizard of Oz reference?" Neal asked surprised.

Peter shot Neal a sour look as Sawyer slammed his fist against the locked door. Neal and Peter put their palms against the sturdy steel door even though there was no chance that Sawyer was going to break it down.

"This door won't protect you forever, Burke! I will see you in the ring, and even if I don't get you, someone will! You're branded!"

"Mix-ups…" Neal thought out loud.

"Neal?"

"Just before York branded me he said something about it helping prevent any mix-ups." Neal explained.

"Mix-ups?"

"I don't think Sawyer is a prisoner, at least not the same way we are."

"What the hell is going on here?" Peter demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough." Sawyer taunted through the door.

"Sawyer, I'm a Federal Agent if you help me..."

"No one is helping you. You're dead!"

"Saw..."

"No one with a brand gets out alive."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Peter…" Neal whispered urgently. "Peter, wake up."

Neal looked down at Peter who was using his lap as a pillow as he shivered in his sleep but didn't wake. They had discovered that the far back corner from the door was up against some kind of heat source so they were currently huddled up against the back wall. It wasn't a perfect solution as the concrete on this end was only a few degrees warmer from the rest of the room, but it was better than nothing. They had decided that they needed to take turns sleeping and had set up a watch. After Sawyer had given up on breaking down the door they had both taken turns getting a little rest although neither one of them found they could really sleep. During what they had assumed was the day they had taken a few more cautious exploration of the tunnel systems, but nothing useful had come of it and they had ended up back where they'd started. The subway above had slowed down a few hours ago signifying their new night, but Peter had only been asleep for about an hour when Neal had heard something that he felt was worth waking him for.

"Peter..." Neal repeated a little louder as he reached down to gently pushed against Peter's shoulder to get a response.

When Neal touched his shoulder Peter jerked awake with his breath hissing sharply across his teeth. He snapped his eyes open but instantly weld them shut as he ground his teeth together with a growl of pain. Bringing his hand up he gingerly touched the area around the fresh brand before opening his eyes again. Neal watched as Peter took a split second to figure out his surroundings and accept them. Neal had had the same reaction the last time he'd woken as well, their situation was surreal enough that every time they woke back into it there was a moment where it felt like it must have just been a nightmare. Although it only took a glance around at the dank water-stained rough concrete walls to crush that moment of hope.

"Neal, wha…" Peter stopped when he heard voices outside.

"Jake, Sawyer says he wants a shot at those two."

"Yeah, well Sawyer can blow me," a deep voice called back "he knows the rules."

Neal had originally just heard the footsteps at the end of the hall, now that it was clear that they were being approached Peter quickly sat up. Neal got to his feet and helped Peter do the same. Once they were both up Neal found he regretted moving so quickly as his vision suddenly darkened around the edges, leaning back against the wall he closed his eyes and ground his teeth against a powerful wave a nausea. His stomach growled audibly as it protested the continued lack of fuel. Neal wasn't sure when he last ate, but he was guessing that it was pushing the forty hour mark. Bring the back of his hand against his mouth he did his best to quell a quick spell of dry heaving.

Neal could hear Peter breathing heavily and assumed that he was having similar issues. Luckily the drop in blood pressure didn't last long and by the time they heard a key grating in the lock they were both ready to face the intruder. When the muscular man that Neal had to assume was Jake stepped into the room Peter automatically positioned himself in front of Neal and reached up into his jacket. Peter put his hand back down when he was reminded that he didn't have his weapon but he still stood his ground. Neal appreciated Peter's protective sentiment but he doubted that there was much Peter could do against Jake without his gun. Unlike the filthy clothing that Sawyer had been wearing Jake was much cleaner, but he had all the characteristics of someone who'd been in more than one fight in his life.

"Showtime, Boys." Jake said with a tight lipped smile. "Jackets off, button downs off, you can keep the undershirts if you're shy."

Neither of the men made a move to comply with the strange request. Jake rolled his eyes slightly and reached back to pull a collapsible baton out of the back of his belt. Neal and Peter both tensed as Jake snapped the heavy metal rod open to its full length and took a menacing step closer. Neal noticed Peter widen his stance in preparation for a fight that he'd be destined to lose even with Neal's help.

"It's Jake, right?" Peter asked in an attempt to start a dialogue.

"Jake Tulie to be exact." Jake offered fearlessly. "And before you go telling me you're a Federal Agent, trust me, I know. That's not going to help you or your friend down here, if anything it's a serious disadvantage."

"The FBI isn't going to just give up on finding either one of us." Peter continued. "Help us and I can guarantee you protection from both York and prosecution."

"I believe you." Jake nodded. "But I'm not interested. Now if you have fifty million or so in cash we can talk."

"I have that." Neal offered helpfully. "Or at least I can get it."

"Nice try."

"I'm serious."

"Trust me, he is." Peter added even though he knew it wasn't going to help.

"Enough. You two can either cooperate and possibly live to see tomorrow or I can bash your rib cages in and you can drown in your own blood. The choice is yours." Jake growled as he raised the baton menacingly. "Honestly it's less work for me in the long run to just beat you both to death right now."

"So…why don't you?" Neal asked warily.

"I'm very tempted, but the pay is better if I don't." Jake said coldly. "Jackets and shirts off, now. Come on, Agent, we both know it's protocol not to antagonize your kidnapper."

Before Peter could reply Sawyer and two of his men suddenly appeared in the doorway. Sawyer looked over the scene with a smug grin.

"Hey, Jake." Sawyer greeted. "You need some help in here?"

"Maybe." Jake replied before turning his attention back to Peter. "Would you rather just deal with me or should I let Sawyer settle this for us? I hear you two have a history. It's your call, Agent."

Truly out numbered Peter raised his hands slightly in surrender before he turned to Neal and nodded to him. At this point Neal agreed with Peter's decision to play along, Jake may have been bluffing about killing them, but he probably wouldn't have any issue with letting Sawyer land a few good hits to facilitate things. Taking off their dark sport suit jackets and already torn dress shirts they dropped them on the floor in the corner in hopes of being able to retrieve them later for what little protection against the damp they provided.

Feeling his brand soaking more blood through his undershirt as he moved Neal glanced over at the sickly yellow and red stain on Peter's undershirt. He had done his best to keep Peter's shirt from sticking to the wound while he was sleeping, but the injury was still weeping and was currently clung to the fabric. Sawyer and his friends made noises of mock sympathy at seeing the blood. Jake seemed to just want to get things moving and once the pair had followed his orders he tossed a large white zip tie to Neal. Assuming that Jake wanted him to put it on he started to wrap it around his bruised wrists.

"Not you," Jake corrected "Burke, and behind the back, then step away and face the wall."

Neal flashed Peter an apologetic look that Peter silently accepted before turning around and putting his hands behind his back. Neal slipped his fingers in between Peter's wrists so that he could make it appear like he had secured the zip tie tightly but still leave Peter room to escape. For his part Peter kept his hands in tight fists so that when he relaxed he'd have additional room to slip through. Peter flinched in exaggerated pain as Neal pretended to jerk the restraint tight. Neal stepped a few feet away and faced the wall placing his hands behind his back knowing that he was just going to be ordered to do so anyway. Jake handed another tie off to one of the men with Sawyer. Neal bit down on his bottom lip to keep quiet as the man clamped the sharp plastic tie around his already sore and cut wrists. Jake had clearly done this before and was cautious about approaching his captives which was going to work against them. He didn't seem to be one to make mistakes easily, a fact that was illustrated when he turned to Sawyer.

"Go tighten that." Jake ordered motioning towards Peter with his baton.

"Gladly."

Peter pulled his shoulders back as Sawyer approached him to emphasize his slight height advantage but the subtle move did little to intimidate the thug. Sawyer forced Peter to turn around and shoved him against the wall before grabbing the free end of the zip tie and yanking on it hard enough to draw blood. Peter had the opportunity to throw his head back and possibly break Sawyer's nose, but knowing that would only lead to a losing battle Peter passively accepted Sawyer's rough treatment. Not really needing an excuse to attack Sawyer used his purchase on the zip tie to jerk Peter away from the wall before slamming him back into it with more force than before. Peter managed to keep his face from hitting the wall but he cried out sharply as his injured chest took the brunt of the force.

"Get off him!" Neal spat as he tore himself away from the man who had secured his wrists in an aggressive move towards Sawyer.

"Neal, no!" Peter warned.

"Sawyer!" Jake barked in almost the exact same tone. "You want to spend a month in solitary?"

To Neal's surprise Sawyer put his hands up in surrender and backed away from Peter. He was still trying to understand what Sawyer's role was down here, he was allowed to move around freely and even helped with Jake's agenda, but at the same time Jake was quick to treat him like a prisoner. The way Sawyer respected Jake's threat meant that it wasn't an empty one. Jake was currently outnumbered by Sawyer and his two friends, but he clearly still held all the power. Neal just couldn't figure out why.

Neal stepped over to stand next to Peter keeping a wary eye on Sawyer. Breathing heavily as fresh blood brightened the stain over his heart spread Peter turned away from the wall. He kept his attention on Sawyer and Jake as well but pressed his shoulder against Neal's to show that he appreciated him trying to help even if it had been a stupidly dangerous move. Jake noticed the brief interaction between the two and flashed them a smile that made Neal's blood run cold.

"York was right, you two are entertaining. You might be worth your trouble after all. Let's go."

"Go where?" Peter demanded.

"To earn your keep."

Jake didn't explain further. He turned to Sawyer and his men and ordered them to leave. Sawyer looked Neal and Peter over one last time before he winked at them and wished them luck. Neal took notice when Sawyer reached into his filthy shirt and pulled out a small key that he was wearing on a sturdy chain around his neck as he turned to leave. Getting the key wouldn't be as important as just learning what lock it went to and Neal made a mental note to mention it to Peter the next time they were alone.

Once Sawyer and his followers were gone Jake turned back to Neal and Peter, stepping to the side of the door he motioned with his baton for them to step out into the hall. Neal stayed motionless when Peter hesitated to follow Jake's directive. There was no telling what Jake was leading them to and it might be better to make a stand here instead of following Jake to a possibly worse fate. Suddenly losing what little patience he had left Jake stalked over toward them with his eyes set on Neal with an angry intensity.

"Wait…" Peter said quickly as he tried to put himself between Jake and Neal.

Coming up on the pair fast Jake skillfully swung the baton with a flick of his wrist and landed a solid strike to the side of Peter's knee which instantly collapsed it out from underneath him forcing him to kneel. Neal tried to pull back as Jake lashed out at him but he was already up against the wall. Jake tangled his hand in Neal's hair and used the purchase to jerk him close before throwing him in the direction of the open door. With his hands pinned behind his back Neal lost his balance as he was forced forward and he crashed to the floor with a breathless cry as he landed hard on his side.

"Neal!"

Jake took another swing at Peter as he tried to get up forcing him to drop all the way to the floor to avoid getting struck against the temple. With Peter back on the floor even after missing him Jake landed another strike to his upper leg to keep him down before turning on Neal. As Neal was trying to get back to his feet Jake kicked him in the stomach with a breathtaking amount of force. While Neal struggled to catch his breath Jake put his foot against his shoulder and shoved him over onto his back. Neal tried to sit up to get out of the vulnerable position but Jake pinned him back down by stepping on his chest. With the heel of his shoe digging into Neal's ribs Jake threatened to press the ball of his foot against the brand to keep him still. Jake kept Neal down but looked back to Peter.

"Keep pushing me, Burke, and Caffrey is going to pay for it with his hide! I will strip him down, string him up, and spend the next week slowly removing his skin with a belt sander and a blow torch!"

Neal's heart pounded against his chest as his imagination couldn't help but paint him a vivid picture of the gruesome fate Jake was threatening him with. The oddly specific threat gave him the impression that he wasn't exaggerating. With the absolute upper hand Jake stepped down harder on Neal's chest in an effort to drive home his point. Panting for breath Neal didn't give him the satisfaction of crying out, but it was still obvious that he was in pain. 

"I'm sorry." Peter said desperately. "Please, stop..."

"If you want to save Caffrey's skin in every sense of the word I suggest you start following orders. Understood?"

"Understood."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your response, reader reaction is honestly the only guide I have as to how well a story is proceeding and has always shaped my stories and in every case has made them better.

Chapter Six

With his heart in his throat Neal gripped a hold of the bars that separated him from Peter to keep him from pacing and making a distraction out of himself. Standing out in the rectangular pit-like ring Peter was looking up at the crowd gathered beyond the railing above with an unreadable expression. He had according to protocol warned the spectators that he was FBI Agent and that just knowing he was here without taking action was a felony. Neal had not been surprised when Peter's statement had only been met with laughter.

Having said his peace Peter stood his ground near the center of the ring letting the blood from his abraded wrists freely drip off his hands and splatter the dirty concrete at his feet with crimson. As they waited for the fight to begin the crowd noise made an incomprehensible din of chatter and shouting as bets were placed. Neal was glad that Peter seemed calm about the situation as he found himself having trouble keeping his own racing heart under control.

Neal glanced over his shoulder at Jake who was standing on the far side of the bar with has his arms laced through them so he could lean casually on the crossbar. He looked disinterested in what was happening, but Neal had already experienced how quickly the powerful man could turn aggressively violent. Jake noticed the Neal was looking at him and winked at him. Grinding his teeth against a flash of rage Neal looked away.

There was a bared gate on the far side of the ring as well and Peter tensed visibly as it slid open. The crowd noises had died down slightly, but they ramped up again as a man fairly well matched with Peter for height and frame but probably a decade younger stepped into the ring. Peter didn't take his eyes off the new comer but Neal's attention was momentarily drawn to the large digital clock on the top of the wall as it went from all zeros to reading fifteen minutes. The man who had entered the ring looked nervously up at the crowd before slowly walking towards Peter.

"Don't you *dare* come closer!" Peter barked with enough authority to make his opponent to stop and even take a step back. "I am a Federal Agent!"

"Your partner sounds like a broken record with that Agent line." Jake sighed. "…although it kinda working, isn't it? I told York this might happen."

"The FBI comes down hard on anyone who hurts one of their own, everyone knows that." Neal said turning slightly to look at Jake, but at the same time tried to keep an eye on Peter. "You have to stop this before it's too late."

"It was too late the second we branded him." Jake pointed out. "But don't give up on being rescued, it will keep you fighting. Plus you never know, we've never taken a law enforcement agent of any kind before, this just might be the mistake that shuts us down."

"So help us, Peter is good to his word, trust me. He'll protect you."

"It's Campbell's first fight as well, but we still set 3 to 1 against Burke," Jake said conversationally, ignoring Neal "we're worried that he's too much of a Boy-scout which will hurt his points if no one manages a knock-out. That makes for good returns if he does win, but Campbell is still the safe bet. So who's your dog in this fight, Caffrey? You need to choose quick."

"What?" Neal turned his full attention to Jake in horror. "Wh…why would I agree to even bet?"

"There are rewards if you win. Don't worry, I won't tell Burke if you want to bet against him."

"No." Neal snarled in disgust. "I'm not playing your game."

"You have no choice. Your default is Burke and you're his, unless either of you state otherwise before the clock starts. So are you loyal or are you smart?"

"You sick fu…"

"Fights about to start." Jake interrupted as he motioned his head towards the ring to draw Neal's attention back to the action.

Neal jerked violently as a traditional boxing match bell rang out and the digital clock started to count down. A round of boxing was only three minutes long and there was etiquette and rules, under these conditions fifteen minutes was going to feel like an eternity, plenty of time to get seriously injured or even killed. Campbell still hesitated to approach Peter who was doing an excellent job of silently advertising that he was not to messed with lightly. Back in the room Jake had been a far greater threat than Campbell having been both armed and confident. In the ring Peter also had the added advantage of only having to defend himself. Sizing up his opponent Campbell didn't seem as optimistic as his 3 to 1 odds for suggested. The men watching booed and mocked Campbell for his stage fright.

"This is embarrassing." Jake rolled his eyes before looking over his shoulder to one of the two other guards that were in the room with him. "Go around and tell Campbell that if he doesn't get in there in the next ten seconds I will personally reach down his throat and…"

Jake didn't have to finish the rest of his vivid threat as Campbell finally roared to psych himself up and rushed at Peter blindly. Furrowing his brow at the clumsy attack Peter simply stepped to the side at the last moment letting Campbell's own momentum carrying him past his target. Campbell turned around quickly but he went to take a swing at Peter before making sure he had his balance. Peter jerked to the side again with his feet planted wide, lashing out he caught Campbell's wrist and in one fluid motion twisted him around and followed him down after he tripped him so that Campbell landed on his stomach with his restrained wrist held behind his back.

"Nice!" Jake crowed sounding genuinely impressed. "The FBI taught your boy some skills, I should have set the odds to 2 to 1. Damn."

Neal ignored Jake's commentary but he did smile slightly at how easily Peter had taken the man down. Finishing the move Peter dropped down to drive one knee into Campbell's back to keep him down while keeping his other knee on the floor to be able to react quickly if Campbell managed to twist out of his grip. Pinning Campbell to the floor in classic 'resisting arrest' style Peter threatened to dislocate his shoulder every time he moved causing Campbell to squawk in pain.

"Stay down, stay still." Peter ordered. "I'm not fighting you, I'm not fighting anyone."

"Get off me!" Campbell spat.

Peter glanced up at the digital clock that showed that there were thirteen minutes left to the fight. Neal relaxed slightly, he was confident that Peter could hold Campbell down now that he had him restrained. The crowd had gone wild for the self defense move at first but now they were getting angry with the boring turn of events. Neal was about to shout out a warning as he saw someone throw a beer bottle at Peter, but he was too late. Peter winced as the bottle struck between his shoulder blades and bounced off to roll across the floor without breaking.

"Go find out who threw that and get rid of them." Jake grumbled at one of his guards.

Neal was surprised that there were repercussions for the rowdy crowd member but he was grateful. Unphased by the audience participation Peter kept Campbell still as the clock clicked down to twelve.

"Okay, that's enough." Jake said to Neal. "Tell Burke to get off him."

"You said there were no rules."

"I lied. Get him off of there, no one is paying to see him win by default."

"No." Neal said defiantly. "Fifteen minutes to survive anyway we can, that was the deal.

"The deal?" Jake hissed darkly as he pushed himself away from the bars and went for the door to join Neal in the cell. "You don't get to bargain with me, Caffrey. York may own this show, but down here I'm Alpha Dog."

Neal back up into the bars as Jake's mood shifted quickly as flicking a light switch. He had been calm and practically civil a moment ago but there was something about hearing the word 'no' that set him off. Neal glanced over his shoulder at Peter who was out in the center of the ring with his back to him. Campbell was getting angrier at the humiliation and becoming harder to control and there was still over ten minutes left to the fight. Neal felt the best he could do for Peter right now was stall Jake as long as possible.

"Jake, wait…"

Neal learned very quickly that he shouldn't have backed himself up against the bars which not only cut back his escape routes but also gave Jake a significant amount of leverage. Demonstrating the same surprising speed and sudden aggression as before Jake pounced on Neal. He reached past him to grip the bars on either side of Neal's shoulders to trap him in place as well as use a handhold to increase his power as he brought his knee up and slammed into Neal's already sore stomach.

Jake stepped back and let Neal collapse to the floor with his arms wrapped protectively over his stomach. Having bitten his tongue when struck Neal gagged on the metallic taste of blood. He tried to get to his feet but he couldn't even manage to uncurl himself as the painful blow caused his diaphragm to spasm making it impossible to catch his breath beyond an ineffective shallow gasping. Jake reached down and grabbed a fist full of Neal's hair to force him up to his knees and arched him back which actually opened up his chest and helped him breathe. Neal reached over his shoulder to hold onto Jake's wrist as he used his painful purchase to yanked him up onto his feet.

Jake held Neal in place so that he was facing the ring for a moment to give him a chance to yell out to Peter. Making a show of grinding his teeth together Neal refused to comply. Neal knew the repercussion for his disobedience were going to be severe, but he wasn't going to let Jake use him against Peter without a fight.

Only waiting about ten seconds for Neal to come to his senses Jake dragged Neal back to the far set of bars with a terrifying amount of strength. Being Alpha Dog meant being able to hold his own easily against violent men like Sawyer and he hadn't earned York's trust in handling his prisoners without good cause. Neal had never learned to fight, it had always been in his best interest to either talk his way out of a physical altercation or simply run.

Throwing Neal against the steel bars Jake let go of his hair only to snatch his wrists. Neal tried to pull straight back to escape rather than the more effective method of jerking down and it cost him. Jake easily kept his grip and hoisted Neal's hands up over his head. One of his guard was at the ready on the far side and snaked a zip tie through the bars and pulled it tight around both Neal's wrists and the sturdy cross bar. Neal's initial rebellion turned to panic as he found himself restrained in the powerless position.

"If I were you I'd just scream now," Jake advised "save us both some trouble."

With his adrenaline ruining his better judgment and enraged by Jake's condescending tone Neal spat violently at his captor. Unconcerned by the blood tinted saliva that ran down his face Jake grabbed the collar of Neal's shirt and ripped it open to expose his prey's skin. Desperate Neal tried to bring his leg up to kick Jake away but he was already up on his tip toes in an effort to keep the plastic tie from slicing deeper into his already bleeding wrists and trying to balance on one foot gave him very little leverage.

Neal's panicked mind was still trying to figure out how to best to fight back when Jake jammed something with a metal contact against his ribs. Before Neal could figure out what it was there was a sharp cracking sound that was accompanied by a searing pain that clawed its way through his chest and forced his heart to falter its galloping rhythm. Jake's intent with the electric shock had been to cause Neal to cry out, but his breath had gotten caught in his throat as he arched back with a nearly silent pantomime of a scream as he choked on his own voice.

Growling in frustration Jake gave Neal a second to recover and waited for him to take a deep breath before setting the modified taser off again. The voltage had been specifically changed to cause pain not to incapacitate. Neal stayed mostly silent again but this time through sheer force of will in fear of distracting Peter from his own fight. Jake didn't give in easily and dug the metal contacts lower down Neal's abdomen and trying again. This time Neal couldn't stop the agonized cry that tore through the general din of the displeased crowd above. By the time Jake pulled away sweat was rolling down Neal's exposed skin as he fought to regain his breath. Terrified that Jake was going to electrocute him again Neal yanked at the zip tie in an senseless attempt to escape as blood rolled down his arms.

"Neal?!" Peter cried in concern. "Nea…"

Peter was cut off as Campbell took full advantage of the distraction. Having looked back over his shoulder Peter had shifted his weight and it was all Campbell needed to roll over and buck Peter off. Fueled by rage Campbell threw his whole body at Peter, catching him around the midriff he knocked him down to the cheering roar of the audience. Campbell landed several good blows before Peter could even begin to fight back. Rolling around on the concrete floor the struggle between the two men lacked any of the grace of a choreographed and practiced action scene found in scripted movies as Campbell resorted to any means necessary to inflict pain and Peter worked desperately to defend himself.

"Now it's a fight." Jake chuckled.

Jake handed his taser back over to the guard, but he didn't make any moves to cut Neal down. Giving up on trying to free himself Neal found himself struggling just to keep his head up after the brutal attack. Unable to do anything about his own position Neal tried to focus on what was happening in the ring with Peter. Campbell had turned the tide and was sitting on Peter's stomach to pin him down. Campbell struck him hard splitting Peter's lip causing an alarming amount of blood to pour down his face, quickly covering his chin and throat. When Campbell reared back to draw his fist back again Peter used the chance to hit Campbell's exposed ribs. Laying on his back Peter's didn't have a good position to hit from but it was still enough to double Campbell over with a breathless cry.

Peter brought his arm up to shield his face as Campbell pitched forward. Campbell didn't hesitate to sink his teeth into Peter's flesh. Peter roared in pain but rather than try to pull away he pushed into Campbell to drive him back. Managing to sit up Peter went for Campbell's eyes to get him off. Releasing Peter from the painful bite Campbell fell back as he jerked away to save his eyes. Peter scrambled to get the upper hand and straddled Campbell, sitting heavily on his chest and pinning his arms to his sides.

Satisfied to have his opponent restrained again Peter instantly looked toward Jake and Neal but he clearly couldn't see into the shadows of the cell from the bright lights of the ring as his eyes searched the darkness beyond the bars. The fickle crowd began complain again at the way Peter was running down the clock as Campbell battled once again to get free. Panting for breath Peter poured his waning physical strength into keeping Campbell down. Neal managed to get a glimpse at the clock finding that here were still four minutes left to the fight

"Neal?!" Peter called out desperately.

Neal wanted to try an assure him that Peter that he was alive but his voice wouldn't cooperate.

"I had my doubts about you two putting on a good show in the ring," Jake purred "but this is perfect…"

To worn to stop himself Neal screamed again as Jake snaked his hand into his hair again and to forced his head back as he used his free hand to press down on the already abused brand in Neal's chest. Neal's tortured voice was quickly drowned out by the excited crowd as Peter finally gave them what the wanted and knocked Campbell senseless by slamming his fist square between his eyes, ending the fight in a gruesome spray of blood so that he could turn his full attention to Neal. Peter instantly realized that he had used far more force than had been necessary leaving Campbell in danger of drowning in his own blood from his broken face.

Despite the urgency Peter took the time to roll Campbell over onto his side to help him breathe. Once he had done what he could for the unconscious man Peter stood up but found himself having trouble getting to back towards the bars as he stumbling to the side as if drunk from what was likely a mild concussion. Jake released his grip Neal dropping his chin back to chest so that he could applaud Peter's performance with a rueful laugh. Jake reached out and tussled Neal's sweat soaked hair patronizingly. Neal jerked his head away and spat an barely coherent obscenity at his tormentor before bowing his head again in exhausted defeat.

"Damn, Caffrey, remind me to be more careful with you around him. Fighting for you makes Burke absolutely _savage_."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Please, stop…please."

"Neal…"

"No. I can't do this."

"I know it hurts, but we have to…"

"Peter, no…I need a break, please." Neal begged as his voice dropped to a miserable whisper. "Stop… _please_ …"

Giving into the despondent plea Peter nodded, holding up his blood soaked hands up in peaceful surrender. Sitting on the wet shower floor with his back to Peter Neal reached back over his shoulder and protectively held his hand over the source of the river of blood that was running down the right side of his bare back. With his stomach knotted painful in sympathy Peter looked down at the slowly growing pile of clear glass shards that he had spent the past hour painstakingly digging out of Neal's shoulder. Unable to see the smaller pieces past the gore Peter had to run his finger tips across the area until he either felt the glass or Neal jerked in pain. He had left most of the largest pieces in for last to keep the bleeding to a minimum since he couldn't apply pressure until all of the glass was out, but there was still an alarming amount of blood coursing down Neal's ivory pale skin.

Having defeated Campbell one of Jake's men had come into the ring from the far gate to unlock the bars that would let Peter back into the cell where Neal was being held. Peter cursed how cautious Jake was with how he handled moving his captives around. By not opening the cell from the inside himself Jake didn't expose himself to the risk of being trapped in a small space with an angry Federal Agent. Peter could have aggressively gone for the guard who had entered the ring but Jake would instantly have Neal as a hostage.

Stepping into the cell Peter's breath hissed sharply over his teeth as he caught sight of Neal strung up against the bars dripping in blood and sweat. His eyes were open but with his head bowed he was just staring blankly at the floor wiht his only motion coming from his heavy labored breathing. The three obvious electrical burn marks combined with the fact that his brand was dripping fresh blood instantly told Peter just how hard Neal had fought to keep silent. Jake hadn't just prodded the two cries of distress Peter had heard he had out of Neal he had violently torn them from him.

Panicked by the state his friend was in Peter rushed up to him without thinking of the consequences. Having been pouring all of his concentration into staying conscious Neal didn't instantly recognize who was approaching and automatically assumed Peter was a threat. Throwing his head back against the bars Neal weld his eyes shut and growled between clenched teeth as he yanked at his restraints. Peter reached up and grabbed Neal's blood slicked forearms to hold him still to keep him from doing more damage. Bringing his head back down Neal bared his teeth at Peter in an animalistic snarl before recognition set in and his rage turned to relief which just as quickly degraded into concern as he looked at the blood that was still dripping down Peter's throat from his open lip forming a large v-shaped stain down his cotton undershirt.

"Peter…"

"I'm here." Peter assured before glaring at Jake who was watching them from the far side of the bars. "Cut him down."

"What's the magic word?" Jake mocked.

Neal took a breath with obvious intent to use it to swear at Jake but he begrudgingly kept it to himself when Peter briefly increased the grip he had on his pinned arms in a silent request that he not antagonize Jake further. Peter admired Neal's bravery but right now he needed discretion to be the stronger half of his valor.

"Please." Peter provided.

"That didn't sound like you meant it." Jake tisked. "I swear you Feds have no manners. You're too used to used to being the ones in charge."

"Please, cut him down." Peter repeated as submissively as he could manage.

Hearing the pleading tone Jake was forcing out of Peter Neal brought his eyes up to meet Peter's with a mortified apologetic expression darkening his usually bright eyes. Peter shook his head almost imperceptibly, not willing to accept an apology when it wasn't warranted. Jake took a moment to contemplate Peter's sincerity before he whistled at one of his men and jerked his head in Neal's direction. The man pulled a large knife out from a holster on his hip and walked over towards the bars. Peter kept a wary eye on the weapon fearing that the man was just as likely to sink it into Neal's back as he was to cut him free. Luckily the man simply reached up and sliced through the plastic tie.

Peter wrapped his arms around Neal's waist to keep him from falling as he lost the support of the restraint. Neal wrapped his arms around around Peter's neck to prevent the exact same thing as he struggled to get his legs to support his weight. Helping him Peter guided Neal a few feet away from the bars and Jake before stopping. Resting against Peter Neal took a few deep shuddering breaths before leaning back to attempt to stand on his own. Peter let Neal back away but kept his hands on his hips in case he needed help. Neal was shaking slightly but he succeeded in keeping himself upright.

"Neal…"

"I'm okay." Neal said unconvincingly.

"He fought hard to keep from distracting you," Jake said "but he should have let you take care of yourself and saved that energy for the ring. I had to reset his odds to 10 to 1 instead of the 5 I had originally planned."

"What?" Peter asked horrified.

Peter noticed Neal tensing up and looked over his shoulder to find two of Jake's men entering the cell from the arena side both armed with metal batons. Turning around to face the men Peter automatically put himself between them and Neal, however Neal stepped out from behind him to willing walk towards the guards.

"Neal, no..."

"Peter, I have a better chance against whoever they are going to match me up with than either one of us have against these two. At least whoever is in the ring will be unarmed."

"Listen to your CI, Agent, he's a smart one." Jake advised.

Peter knew Neal was right but he still didn't want to just let him walk out into the lion's den alone. Neal flashed Peter a resigned smile before turning back towards the ring. His left knee buckled but he was able to stabilize himself before Peter could step forward to help him.

"Neal, wait."

"Peter, I hav…"

"Take your shirt off, you're just going to get tangled in it like that." Peter interrupted. "Keep your thumb on the outside of your fist, keep your wrist slightly bent down and go for the body not the face. Skulls are very solid, the bones in your hand are not. Keep your opponent moving, your greatest advantage is your cardio."

Neal nodded at the quick advice and tore open the last few inches of his ruined shirt that had still been together before shrugging it off. Peter had to look away as Neal stepped out into the ring to the jeers of the bloodthirsty crowd. Peter looked up as the gate between them clanged shut behind Neal. Out in the center of the ring Neal was doing his best to look calm but his body betrayed his panic as he panted heavily for breath.

"For a con Caffrey's got more man in him than I was expecting." Jake said with a hint of admiration. "Did you teach him that? From everything I've seen in the past people who make a living by lying tend to be cowards."

"Jake, please." Peter begged pointlessly. "You can't make him fight, he's half dead already. You already said that we're not worth as much to you if we die quickly, he will not last fifteen minutes out there."

"You do make a good point. Tell you what we'll make this first fight seven minuets instead of fifteen since he already put up such a good fight against me."

Peter just nodded his agreement knowing that having the fight cut in half was better than nothing at all but he wasn't about to verbally thank Jake for the small mercy. Jake sent one of his men off to have the clock changed showing Peter that they didn't seem to have any kind of communications system set up. Peter wasn't sure if he could use that information in any meaningful way or not but he made note of it.

Out in the ring Neal shifted his weight nervously as he waited for his opponent to arrive. He was momentarily distracted as the clock went from zero to seven. The crowd hissed their disapproval of the change in the fight. Surprised by the reduced time as well Neal looked over to where Peter was even though he couldn't see into the shadowed cell. Looking a little more confident he stopped swaying his weight, although the continued general tremor showed that most of what was keeping him upright was pure adrenaline.

Neal and Peter both brought their focus to the far gate as a lanky man several years younger than Neal joined him in the ring. Looking Neal over the man spat on the ground before making a show of grabbing the crotch of his pants. Neal just furrowed his brow at the obscene gesture, neither offended nor intimidated by it.

"That's Richards, he's a first timer as well. He's paying off a debt of honor not money, unsurprisingly he offended someone high in the ranks. He's a weasel, he'll be just as happy to have a shorter fight as Caffrey. He's not a killer, but he does have something to prove."

Peter did not want or need Jake's commentary, he just wanted Neal to make it through the next seven minutes without any major injury. There was a great deal of skill, science, and even art that went into bare knuckle fighting that Neal had never had occasion to learn. He had made it his whole life by mostly avoiding physical confrontation with a silver tongue, but no amount of talk was going to get him out of this. When the bell rang Richards didn't show any of the hesitation that Campbell had. He stalked calmly towards Neal with malicious intent burning in his dark eyes. Neal changed his stance to defend himself but he simply widened it rather than staggered it as he stood seemingly frozen to the spot.

"Neal, move!" Peter barked.

Reminded that his best bet was to keep out of Richards' range Neal jumped back as Richards took a swing at his face. Missing his initial swing exposed Richards back and Neal lashed out to take the strike. Richards howled in pain as Neal slammed his fist into his shoulderblade but Neal also ended up backing up shaking out his hand. Having not connected correctly he had injuring himself as well. For the next few minutes Neal did a fair job of keeping just out of Richards range. Richards landed several hits but none of them with had much power as he struggled to keep up with Neal's speed. Even after only four minutes Richards was sucking for breath as Neal made him jab out two to three times for every actual hit that connected.

Getting irritated that Neal wasn't the easy target he had assumed he'd be Richards switched to a more calculating mode. He feinted a left hook and when Neal fell for it Richards had a clear shot at Neal's center mass. Peter cried out but couldn't warn Neal in time and Richards knocked Neal breathless with a well placed strike to the point where his sternum and abdomen met. This may be Richards' first time in the ring but not his first altercation, he knew that the area was a classic weak spot.

Neal staggered back, doubled over by the strategic blow as he struggled to catch his breath. With a cruel smile Richards circled around and kicked the back of Neal's knee to drop him. Gulping for air Neal fought blindly to get back to his feet knowing he was vulnerable down on his hands and knees. Richards let Neal get back up but only so that he'd have a better shot at his right kidney. Peter held his breath as he watched Neal lose control of the fight. He had no way of helping as any instructions he tried to give now would just further confuse and disorient Neal.

Richards struck him in the back again and forced Neal forward but he managed to keep his balance. Turning to face Richards Neal held his hands up in what looked like surrender. Not interested in peacefully accepting a win Richards closed in on him again. Trying to keep Richards back by any means possible Neal did exactly what Peter had warned him not to do and swung at Richards' face. He was lucky enough to hit Richards' nose hard enough to bloody it but the way Richards reacted Peter doubted that he'd managed to actually break it.

Enraged by the painful but not incapacitating strike Richards rushed Neal for a full body knock down. Neal tried to back up but that just set him further off balance as Richards put his shoulder down and slammed into him. Neal landed hard on his back with a sharp cracking sound that seemed out of place for just being flesh hitting the floor. Arching back with Richards still on top of him Neal screamed like he'd just been mortally wounded.

"Neal!"

Having put his hands up to defend himself when Richards ran at him Neal ended up with his palms against his attacker's chest. Neal used his purchase to shove Richards back and off himself in a surprising show of strength. Richards jumped to his feet and was about to kick Neal but hesitated when Neal didn't even make an attempt to get back up. Writhing in pain Neal screamed again, his voice rising above the excited roar of the crowd. Peter couldn't see what was wrong with Richards standing in the way as he paced at the bars to try and see what was happening. Not taking advantage of a downed opponent Richards backed away revealing that Neal was laying in a quickly expanding pool of blood.

"Neal!"

"What the hell happened?" Jake asked confused.

Ignoring Jake but having the same question in his mind Peter called out to Neal again to encourage him to get up however he doubted that Neal could hear him over the crowd as they encouraged Richards to finish what he'd started. Snarling useless threats Peter tore at the bars as Richards appeased the crowd by brutally kicking Neal in the ribs. Crying out in pain and fear Neal forced himself into a sitting position and tried to scramble back away from Richards. Quickly backing himself into the wall Neal put up his violently trembling hand up and stared up desperately at Richards in hopes of mercy.

"Stop!" Peter yelled at Richards. "You've won! Leave him alone!"

Richards had hesitated to take advantage before but he'd been keyed up by the crowd and wasted no time knocking Neal's hand out of the way so he could reach down and grab a fist full of his sweat drenched hair. Hauling Neal to his knees Richards drew his hand back to throw his full force into a knock out blow, however before he got the chance the bell signifying the end of the match suddenly rang out. Adhering to the rules Richards released Neal and threw his hands up in victory like he had just scored a touchdown rather than nearly beaten a man to death. Without Richards supporting him Neal dropped back to the floor like a rag doll.

"Neal!" Peter called again before turning to Jake. "The fights over, let me out there!"

When Jake hesitated to step into the cell to open the gate to the ring Peter dropped down to his knees and put his hands up behind his head with his fingers laced together to prove that he had no intention of attacking him. Satisfied that Peter would behave Jake unlocked the cell and stepped over to the other gate and unlocked it as well. Stepping to the side he nodded to let Peter know he could get up and go to his fallen partner.

It took Peter two tries to get back to his feet as the stress and starvation worked against his adrenaline and willpower. Once up Peter rushed out into the blood soaked ring. Jake followed behind at a slower pace with his metal baton in hand just in case. Richards looked over his shoulder as the crowd reacted to Peter jeeringly. Emboldened by the audience and the recent victory Richards stepped up to Peter fearlessly.

"You should have taught your pet how to fight, Fed." Richards mocked brazenly.

Without breaking stride Peter slammed the heel of his palm into the exact spot on Richards' chest that Richards had first struck Neal. The crowd laughed as Richards was knocked back on his ass sputtering for breath. Having not expected the blow he had been easily taken off balance. Gasping for breath Richards looked up sourly at Jake clearly expecting him to do something to Peter in retaliation for the assault.

"What?" Jake chuckled at Richards. "You shouldn't have pissed him off."

"Jake…" Richards whined.

"He's allowed to attack anyone he wants, I only take it personally when its me."

Richards got back to his feet and contemplated starting a new fight however seeing the look in Peter's eyes he wisely backed down and left the ring with what was left of his dignity. Peter continued over to Neal and knelt down next to him, the blood on the floor quickly soaked through the fabric of his pants. Gasping in quick shallow breaths Neal looked up at Peter in terror as he continued to bleed out. Needing to assess the situation Peter carefully slipped his hand under Neal's head and helped him sit up. Looking over Neal's shoulder Peter's heart sank at the sight of the jagged glass shards sticking out of his flesh. Richards had pushed him down onto the glass bottle that someone had thrown at Peter when he'd had Campbell pinned and it had shattered under the impact.

Horrified by the damage and unable to do anything about the bleeding right now Peter just pulled Neal in against his chest in a light embrace to give him a small measure of psychological support. Accepting the gesture Neal curled up against him as a wracking tremor ran through his body as his adrenaline and endurance bottomed out. Peter couldn't let Neal rest too long, he had to get him out of the exposed arena and back to the relative safety of their room so he could attempt to remove the glass and stop the bleeding.

Peter threaded one arm under Neal's knees and attempted to lift him up off the floor. Finding himself too weak to move Neal's weight he had to switch tactics. As soon as Neal realized what Peter was trying to do he started attempting to get to his feet on his own. Peter slipped in under Neal's good shoulder to help him stand. Jake stepped closer and went to reach down to grab Neal's other arm causing Peter to jerk Neal away from him as best he could.

"Back off!" Peter snapped.

"I'm just trying to help."

"Touch him and you're going to have a personal problem on your hands!"

"Fair enough, Agent, take care of your own."

"Believe me...I plan to."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for supporting this story! Finally got to some of the 'comfort' of the hurt/comfort genera in this chapter...it does not come as naturally to me as the first part. ;)

Chapter Eight

"Neal…"

Knowing what Peter was going to say Neal shook his head and pulled away from him slightly. Sitting on the wet concrete shower floor holding his hand protectively over his ruined shoulder Neal swallowed the bile that was burning the back of his throat as he started shivering. He had desperately asked for a break from Peter digging the glass out of his shoulder, but now that he had gotten a few minutes of reprieve he wasn't sure he had the mental strength to agree to letting him remove the rest.

"Neal," Peter repeated gently "we have get this over with, we need to stop the bleeding."

Closing his eyes Neal let tears slip unchecked down his face, his stomach felt like it held an angry snake twisting around in it at the thought of continuing the painful treatment. The remaining pieces of glass throbbed painfully and he could feel the blood dripping down his back but the discomfort of having the invasive glass in his skin was nothing compared to the sharp agony of having the shards torn out. He knew it had to be done but he couldn't bring himself to allow any more pain, at least when Jake was tormenting him he was fighting for Peter, he was finding it much harder to fight for himself.

Still not getting an answer from Neal and not wanting to proceed without some form of permission Peter reached out and carefully touched the hand that Neal was using to shield his shoulder in a silent request that he move it away. Grinding his teeth against a wave of nausea Neal nodded vacantly and forced himself to put his hand down. Acting quickly Peter pressed his left palm against Neal's back on the far side of the injury to give himself something to brace against as he gripped down on one of the larger pieces of glass and yanked it out. Knowing Peter hated to hurt him Neal was just as determined to stay silent now as he had under Jake's hand. However when Peter pulled another piece of glass there seemed to be nothing he could do about vocalizing his pain as his cry echoed off the close concrete walls.

"I'm sorry." Neal apologized in frustration.

"It's okay, Neal, make as much noise as you need to."

Resolved to gain better control of himself Neal balled his hands into fists and chewed on his bottom lip. Working as fast as he could Peter pulled the invasive glass out without the same hesitation as when he'd first started an hour ago. He had been more careful when working as many of the smaller splinters out as possible, but now that he was removing the deeper larger pieces time was a serious factor as he made the blood loss exponentially worse.

Staring at the blood creeping across the wet concrete towards the drain Neal poured all of his focus into not crying out. He was furious at himself that Jake had managed to pry his lips open and he needed to prove to himself now that he wouldn't let it happen again. Panting for breath as Peter pulled more of the glass away Neal started to become overcome with nausea and dizziness as his stubbornness to remain quiet pushed him closer to collapse faster than if he just gave in to the urge to make his obvious pain known. Starting to hold his breath only made things worse and with the next lancing stab of pain Neal found himself slammed hard against the limit of his endurance.

"Stop!" Neal finally wailed in agony.

This time Peter didn't pay any attention to Neal's wishes as he quickly ripped out the last three visible piece of glass in violent succession. Having used his breath to cry for break and expecting to receive it Neal gagged violently when he lost what little air was left in his lungs to the shock of Peter's well meaning treachery. Sucking for breath Neal lashed out blindly to try and push his tormentor away when Peter went to press a towel against the gush of red that was pouring from the open wounds. Prepared to have his patient fight back Peter wrapped one arm around him to pin Neal's good arm to his side and held him close while he pressed the cloth against Neal's shoulder mercilessly to stanch the dangerous flow of blood.

Throwing his head back Neal screamed at the top of his lungs in a combination of fear, pain and anger. He tried to tell himself that Peter was only doing what he had to to save his life but the primitive parts of his mind that were driven by instinct only saw Peter as a source of pain and kept trying to get him to fight back the threat. Although he felt more trapped by his situation than by Peter Neal's only outlet was to struggle against the man currently holding him down. Afraid that releasing Neal now would only lead to more blood loss Peter tightened his hold pressing Neal's back harder against his chest despite the pain it cause his brand.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Peter whispered hoarsely sounding like he was going to be sick. "I had to, I can't just let you bleed out. I'm sorry, I know it hurts."

Using what was left of his strength Neal pushed his instincts to escape pain at all costs aside and showed Peter that he understood and accepted the apology by forcing himself to relax against him. Even though he had started shivering uncontrollably he at least stopped actively fighting Peter restraining him. He knew from the start that Peter was trying to save him but that didn't change the fact that Peter was causing him more pain than his original attackers having spent over the past hour trying to fix what had taken only a few minutes to break. Slowly recovering Neal realized that he wasn't the only one who was shaking, still holding onto Neal Peter's chest heaved with a heavy panting as he fought to control his own trembling from the stress of having to torment his friend.

Closing his eyes Neal leaned his head back to rest his head on Peter's shoulder as made a conscious effort to slow his breathing and managed to calm his quivering muscles. Feeling Neal truly relax helped Peter do the same and although he kept the pressure on the wounds he did reduce the amount of force he was using to hold Neal still turning his embrace into one of support rather than restraint. Resting his chin over Neal's uninjured shoulder Peter closed his eyes for a moment as well in search of a moment of peace in the middle of the storm. Neal found himself just about to drift off to sleep when Peter jerked slightly as though he had fallen asleep and caught himself just before he lost consciousness completely.

"Peter?"

"I'm here." Peter answered simply.

With more work to do Peter released Neal making sure he could sit up on his own before rooting through the plastic tub of medical supplies sitting next to them. The basic medical kit had apparently been part of reward for Peter having won his fight which had meant Neal had won his bet. The two doors that had been locked in the short hallway had also been unlocked but they hadn't had time to explore them yet. Peter found a box of steri-strips and after doing his best to clear away the clotting blood from Neal's shoulder he applied some of the adhesive strips to the worse of the cuts before taping a large gauze pad over the area.

Neal looked up as Peter got unsteadily to his feet to take one of the small towels they'd been given over to the sink. He had taken off the undershirt he'd been wearing and was soaking it in the sink in an attempt to get the blood out of it. His ribs and side were already marred with several deep purple marks where Jake and Campbell had struck him. His split lip was swollen and still trickled a bit of blood that he kept compulsively licking off. However what alarmed Neal the most was the blood that covered his hands all the way up to his elbows. A great deal of the blood was Neal's but Peter's wrists were still actively bleeding. Looking down at his own painful wrists Neal discovered he had the exact same problem.

Taking the ruined shirt out of the sink Peter put it aside as he washed the blood off his arms as best he could before wetting down the towel and turning back to Neal. When Peter sat down in front of Neal and started to clean the blood off his arms with the towel Neal caught sight of the two horseshoe marks where Campbell had bit him. Human bites were notoriously nasty and this one was no exception as Neal could already see the whole area turning red and swollen.

"We need to try and clean that bite."

"I'll pour some peroxide on it." Peter said dismissively.

Neal doubted that something as simple as peroxide was going to keep the bite from becoming infected. Unconcerned with his own injuries Peter worked to clean Neal's wrists before wrapping them tightly in strips of gauze that he tied off with a double knot. Peter went to put the remaining roll of gauze back in the plastic bin leaving his own wrists dripping in blood when Neal reached out and stopped him.

"I'm fine." Peter insisted. "We need to save these supplies, we might not get any more."

"We need to take care of us both."

"I haven't lost much blood."

"But you're still open to infection."

Peter took a breath to protest but Neal ignored him and took the wet towel and searched out a clean spot to use on Peter's wrists. Sighing in defeat Peter peacefully allowed Neal to treat the deep cuts caused by the plastic restraints. After wrapping Peter's wrists Neal dug through the box until he found a dark bottle of peroxide and a small tube of antibiotic ointment. Peter held his arm out for Neal to pour the peroxide over. The cuts in their wrists and in Neal's shoulder were too deep for the peroxide or the ointment to do anything more than cause more pain but the bite needed to be sterilized as best they could. Peter growled as the peroxide fizzed and hissed as it came in contact with the bite mark. Neal spread a thin layer of the ointment over the marks before realizing that it might help their brand marks as well. Peter flinched when Neal reached out to treat the brand but he didn't stop him.

Having accepted as much medical attention as he was going to allow Peter got to his feet once again. Neal gingerly applied some of the ointment to his own brand that was already starting to become infected after having it been used several times by Jake as a weak point. The areas that Jake had jabbed with the taser were sore but didn't bother him in comparison to the rest of his problems. Neal looked up as Peter reached down and offered him his hand to help him up.

Neal accepted the offer but the moment he was on his feet his vision started to go black as his blood pressure plummeted. Seeing that Neal was about to pass out Peter slipped in under his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his waist to keep him upright. Neal had gone on twenty mile runs with less effort than it took him to make it the twenty feet to the front room. Peter sat Neal down in the corner that was slightly warmer and made sure he was going to stay conscious before he disappeared into the hall again.

Resisting the temptation to lay down Neal listened to Peter open one of the newly unlocked doors and rummaging through whatever he had found. Alone in the front room Neal looked around the dirty concrete walls and suddenly felt his mounting anxiety become overwhelming. It wasn't until this moment that it truly hit him that they might actually die down here. When they had first woken up here it was only natural to have hope of rescue, and in the ring he had been too busy fighting for his life to think about the fact that he might lose it. However here in the quiet aftermath of all the violence Neal felt the true gravity of their situation press down on him as his exhaustion made him feel that much more vulnerable. If anyone came through that door right now he physically wouldn't have the strength to even attempt to defend himself.

With his breathing growing quick and shallow Neal was close to a true panic attack when Peter returned. Neal had no way of knowing that beyond his dire situation a great deal of his anxiety was a physical reaction to the blood loss, as it was he simply chastised himself for not being stronger. Peter's calm stoic expression helped Neal control his own rebelling emotions as he managed to quell his panic for Peter if nothing else. Although battered as well and clearly weary Peter still looked determined to offer a fight to anyone who dared challenge him. Finding strength in Peter resolve Neal managed to keep from losing himself to fear. Looking over at Neal Peter managed a tight lipped smile that Neal returned as they worked to fool one another into thinking that they were both okay. Peter checked to make sure the door was locked before stepping over to Neal and offering him a bottle of Ensure that he'd brought from the closet.

"Here." Peter shook the bottle slightly.

"What about you?"

"I had one already."

Neal was fairly confident that Peter was lying to him but before he could call him out on it Peter removed the cap from the bottle and physically placed it in Neal's hand. Neal wasn't very hungry despite the days of starvation but he knew he needed it. The thick warm vanilla favored drink hit his stomach like lead. After chugging half the bottle Neal pulled it away with a noise of disgust and offered the rest of it to Peter.

"You need to drink all of it."

"I can't." Neal said trying to not vomit back up what he had drunk. "Seriously."

"Finish half what is left at least."

Grimacing Neal nodded and knocked back a little less of half of what he'd failed to finish the first time. Neal knew if he just gave it a minute he could probably finish off the drink but he wanted to make sure Peter drank at least some of it. Knowing he wouldn't let the precious resource go to waste Neal handed the rest over. Peter finished what was left before taking the bottle into the bathroom. Hearing Peter fill the bottle with water to drink the residue confirmed Neal's suspicion that he hadn't opened a bottle for himself or else he would have done the same with the first one.

Neal was too tried to pick a fight with Peter right now over how they needed to divide the resources they were given. He assumed that much like the medical supplies that food was something they had to 'win' and that one of the locked doors lead to some form of pantry. Feeling a sudden chill Neal wrapped his arms around his stomach as his digestive system reacted to the dense calorie drink. By the time Peter returned Neal was actively shaking as his body temperature dropped from a large portion of what was left of his blood rushed to his stomach to aid in pulling the nutrients out of the liquid meal.

"Neal?" Peter asked concerned.

"I'm freezing."

Peter walked over to where their jackets were laying from when Jake had demanded that they remove them. Bring them over to Neal Peter sat down and nudged Neal to move out of the corner so he could sit there himself. Peter motioned for Neal to lay down against him so they could help each other by conserving their body heat. Neal couldn't lay on his back without his shoulder protesting so he laid somewhat awkwardly on his side with his ear rested against Peter's chest, being careful to avoid the Peter's sore brand. Peter brought his knee up to help support Neal's lower back instantly making him more comfortable before he laid the jackets over him like a blanket.

Peter carefully wrapped his arms around Neal's waist and settled into as comfortable a position he could find. With the skin to skin contact Neal quickly began to warm and eventually stopped shivering. He was grateful to be warm but he was concerned by how warm Peter was, worried that he was already developing a fever. Neal was going to mention it, but it wasn't going to change anything and Peter had to already be aware of it and the implications.

Closing his eyes Neal worked to shut out all thoughts of the recent violent events and the uncertain future and tried to focus on the fact that they had both survived at least this far. With his ear against Peter's chest Neal could hear his heart and took comfort in the fact that it was beating strong even if it was racing. As calm as Peter was trying to appear his heart betrayed his own fear, but Neal felt he was doing well controlling it and strived to do the same. For a moment Neal succeeded and felt that he might actually be able to rest. However before he could find release in sleep a tremor that had nothing to do with cold wracked Neal's body when his brief brush with peace was shattered by an unexpected spike in anxiety as his exhaustion made it more difficult to control his thoughts. His mind had wandered back to being helpless against Jake while pinned to the bars and brought the panic of the moment back to him in a crushing wave. Misreading the trembling Peter rested his chin on top of Neal's head to increase their contact to keep him warmer. Despite the cold not being his issue the addition support helped calm Neal and reminded him that at least in this moment he was safe. Once Neal settled Peter took a deep breath and sighed in what sounded like relief.

"Peter?"

"Thank you, Neal." Peter said quietly.

"For what?"

"For handling this so well."

"I am?"

"You are." Peter assured. "I'm proud of you."

"And here I thought you'd be angry with me for antagonizing Jake." Neal said in a half teasing tone.

"I would never fault you for being brave." Peter corrected. "You got me through that fight by standing up to him and showed him you're not easily used."

"I only bought you few minutes."

"Down here few minutes could easily be the difference between life and death." Peter said seriously. "These are circumstances where any man could fall apart and you are keeping yourself together and I need that from you now more than ever. I won't…I can't survive this on my own."

"Neither can I."

"Then we will have to do this together or not at all."

"I promise I'll stay alive if you promise to do the same."

"Deal."

"It's settled then, we're going to make it out of here. I've never known you to go back on your word."

Peter briefly hugged Neal tighter in appreciation of both his faith in him and for his optimism. Neal had his doubts about either of their survival just a ten minutes ago, but now he found that he genuinely believed in their chances. Closing his eyes as he started to feel a peaceful sleep over taking him without the same stab of fear as before. Neal smiled as he noticed that Peter's heart rate had slowed significantly.

"Si vales, valeo." Neal muttered sleepily.

"What does that mean?"

"…when you're strong, I'm strong."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Damn it, Sawyer, what the fu…" Jake stopped himself with a frustrated sigh. "What are you still doing here? You won last night, your debt paid in full. Get out. I'm tired of dealing with you and your lackeys."

"Talk to your boss."

"Do you want to die down here?" Jake snarled. "Is that what this is?"

"You know what this is." Sawyer chuckled. "Give me what I want and I'll go away."

"I don't give anyone anything, you have to earn it."

"Fine." Sawyer shrugged. "I'll earn it. I got nothing but time and I kinda like it down here."

"You're sick." Jake sneered in disgust.

"Says the Lord of the Flies."

Jake ground his teeth in rage at Sawyer's mocking tone. Drawing his heavy metal baton as quick as any Old West gun slinger he charged into the commons room where Sawyer and his loyal gang were playing poker around a weathered card table. Sawyer was sitting on an old folding chair on the far side of the table with his cards and red solo cup of liquor held casually in one hand. The other four men around the table sitting on stacked milk crates had jumped up and away from the table when Jake rushed them but Sawyer stayed calm and seated. Ignoring the other men Jake slammed his weapon down on the playing surface, easily breaking the flimsy table in half which sent cards, money, and drinks flying and crashing to the floor.

When Jake raised his arm again to strike Sawyer one of the other men quickly stepped up to put himself between Jake and his prey. Changing his target Jake swung at his new challenger and slammed the metal baton into his stomach with devastating force. When their friend doubled over in pain the three other men instinctively took positions as though they were going to attack in unison but they all backed away with their hands held up in surrender the moment Jake glared at them.

"Don't even think about it!" Jake roared even though they'd already surrendered. "Don't forget you all will be stuck down here and starve without me! Even with your debt paid no one leaves without my say so. York fails to hear from me just once and this place becomes a sealed tomb for *everyone*, branded or not!"

"So you keep saying." Sawyer rolled his eyes.

"Want to test your luck?" Jake asked brazenly as he held his arms out in a defenseless pose. "Go ahead, kill me, see if your boys are so loyal to you when they are deciding who gets eaten first."

The four men that followed Sawyer like pilot fish around a great white shark all looked at one another in obvious terror as their leader decided his next move. Jake knew that none of them wanted to be down here any longer than they had to be, but there were great rewards for sticking with Sawyer as well as very real risks of leaving him. They didn't have debts to York the way Sawyer often did, but they were always allowed to accompany him. A band of personal bodyguards that followed him everywhere in the maze except the ring. The ring was really the only place Sawyer came even close to being vulnerable and even then he had never lost, which made him more bold about talking back to Jake.

Looking disinterested Sawyer tossed his now worthless hand of cards to the floor and drained the rest of his drink before dropping the plastic cup as well. Jake stood his ground as Sawyer got to his feet and stepped up to him, getting right in his face. Being fairly well matched in height, weight, and skill theirs would be a fight any man in the crowd would pay top dollar to see despite the 1 to 1 odds. Jake stared Sawyer down unblinkingly but internally he was relieved when Sawyer dropped eye contact first and backed off.

"You win Ring Master." Sawyer said with what sounded like genuine respect. "Just know that I'm going to get that Fed."

"When I decided it, he's all yours."

Sawyer smiled brightly like a child promised a long wanted gift come Christmas.

"Give me your key." Jake demanded.

Sawyer hesitated but he begrudgingly took the key that he wore around his neck off and handed it to Jake. With his dominance assured Jake stuffed the key in his pocket before he collapsed his baton and returned it to its place in the holder on the back of his belt. The commotion had attracted the attention of some of the other men who where down in the Labyrinth waiting for their turn in the ring who had been lounging in the the next room over. They scattered from the doorway when Jake turned to face them. It was Jake's hope that if Sawyer had decided to attack him that the other men without any loyalties to Sawyer would have intervened on Jake's behalf to keep from risking being trapped and left to die. It was a solid theory but one that Jake had never actually tested.

Having won Jake exited the scene before Sawyer could change his mind. Once he was away from the others a safe distance down one of the long abandoned halls Jake leaned against the cold concrete wall and allowed himself a moment to take a few deep breaths and let his racing heart race slow back down. Jake worked tirelessly to make sure that everyone understood he was untouchable, but in a den of wolves Alpha's job was never done. Looking down at his watch Jake pushed himself away from the wall and continued along at a brisk pace. To the untrained eye the corridors all looked the same, but to the Minotaur of the Labyrinth every turn was as familiar and as easy to navigate as the city streets above were to a native New Yorker.

Jake eventually came to a lonely steel door set apart from the more central areas. He looked up above the door near the ceiling where there were two small lights that were currently off. The lights were connected to sensors on the far side that would warn him if anyone was standing to either side of the door waiting to ambush him. With the way safe he pulled a key ring out of his pocket that held two keys and quietly used one to turn the lock.

Opening the door Jake looked in on his newest captives hoping they were both still alive. He had expected at least one of them to be awake but it seemed that Burke had fallen asleep on guard duty. Propped up with his back pressed into the far corner Burke held Caffrey tightly to his chest even in sleep. Jake furrowed his brow as he noticed that Caffrey had been blindfolded by one of the ties that Jake had left them with. Looking up at the two bare bulbs set in the tall ceiling that bathed the room in an eternal day Jake smiled.

The lights were on twenty-four seven for a reason, the disruption in circadian rhythm caused by constant light exposure quickly lead to sleep difficulties as well as mental disturbance including an increase in aggression. The tendency for constant light exposure to enhance violence was perfect for the ring and so the night had been erased. It was hard to tell down here what drove men insane first but Jake knew the lights were certainly a factor in speeding up their decent into madness. Branded men that lasted longer than a month often later knocked the lights down themselves to find relief which was quickly replaced by a claustrophobic fear as the perfect darkness crushed down on them. Often times they were driven out into the tunnels where the non-branded tended to torment them for sport. In the ring one-on-one the men paying debts weren't always brave but they quickly gained confidence in numbers in the open spaces of the underground compound.

The solution of blinding themselves rather than destroying the lights was not something any of the others had been smart enough to try. Even just identifying the light as a potential hazard before it was too late wasn't something Jake had seen before. Despite his difficult fight Caffrey had probably been unable to sleep with the stress of the glaring bulbs adding to his anxiety and one of them must had offered the tie up as a solution. It took a great amount of trust to sleep blind in a place like this. Jake guessed that Burke and Caffrey had probably planed to take turns sleeping but in his effort to allow his heavily abused partner to sleep as long as possible Burke had slipped into unconsciousness before he was able to change the watch over.

Caffrey proved that he was still alive by suddenly whimpering in his sleep as he started to breathe heavier, no doubt tormented by a nightmare that was mimicking his new waking world. Burke didn't wake fully but he did surface closer to consciousness as he instinctively curled up tighter around his distressed friend. Jake watched fascinated as Caffrey quickly calmed with the added pressure rather than feeling more trapped by it. Many men spoke of being loyal but they quickly showed their cowardice and penchant for self protection as soon as they found themselves truly threatened, instantly giving up on the other to avoid pain for themselves. So far that wasn't true with this unlikely partnership, Jake had been pleased to find that they fought for one another far more valiantly than they fought for themselves. Jake smiled at the bond that the pair shared as he started to wonder at what point it would break. Standing over the sleeping men Jake found himself looking forward to the trials ahead with them in a way he hadn't in more time than he could recall.

Jake knew it wasn't normal and he often recoiled in horror at his own desires, but there was still something he found undeniably deeply satisfying about destroying something beautiful.

"…and you two are nothing short of breathtaking."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Trapped in the murky space between asleep and awake Neal was dragged into full consciousness by a sudden blaze of pain down his shoulder that ran a chill over his skin. After a difficult and uneasy sleep punctuated by nightmares Neal woke to find his situation barely improved from the torments of the unconscious world. Opening his eyes he panicked for a split second when he was greeted by darkness. Remembering the blindfold Neal reached up to remove it but was quickly stopped by a lance of pain. Closing his blind eyes Neal took a moment to focus on something that didn't hurt in order to help him cope with everything else that did. Still curled up against Peter Neal was grateful to be warm, recalling how violently he'd been shaking earlier. There was something about being cold that magnified any misery beyond reasonable limits. At the other end of the spectrum there was something about being warm that helped eased any pain.

Turning his attention to his surroundings the steady rise and fall of Peter's chest told him that Peter had fallen asleep. Neal didn't care that no one had been on watch while they both slept but he knew it was going to upset Peter that he hadn't managed to stay vigilant. Not wanting to disturb Peter's much needed rest Neal stayed still as Peter's gentle breathing slowly rocked him back to sleep.

Managing a dreamless sleep Neal surfaced more refreshed an unknown time later, and he started the process of analyzing his condition once again with greater calm. This time Peter was obviously awake, he kept shifting his weight and position slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position without waking his charge. Neal took a deep breath to let Peter know he was awake before he tried to move. Peter responded by releasing the tight hold he had around Neal's waist and quickly reaching up and removing the tie over Neal's eyes for him. When Neal struggled to sit up after a long night in one position Peter gave him a gentle push. Pulling away Neal was embarrassed to discover he'd drooled fairly heavily down Peter's chest during the night.

"Sorry." Neal apologized sheepishly.

"It's fine." Peter smiled slightly as he rubbed the saliva off with the back of his hand. "Satchmo does the same thing to me when we nap on the couch together."

"Elizabeth allows him up on the couch?" Neal asked surprised.

"Only if I act as a buffer between him and the upholstery."

Neal snickered as he sat back and started to stretch the kinks out of his aching muscles. Leaning forward Peter slowly started to do the same after the long night on the hard floor. Neal grimaced as blood started to trickle from Peter's split lip again. Peter pressed one of his gauze wrapped wrists against his lip revealing that the gauze had already soaked through with blood during the night. Despite the sticky nature of the gauze it helped stopped his lip from bleeding. Worse than both his lip and his wrists Neal looked critically at the horseshoe bite mark on Peter's forearm that was swollen and cherry red.

"I'll live." Peter said drying noticing the look Neal was giving the injury. "It looks worse than it is, it will heal quickly. It's not my first human bite."

"Really?"

"During my first year as a probationary Agent." Peter pulled his left knee up to his chest and pulled up his pant leg revealing a very faint scar just below his calf on either side of twin semi-circles. "An arrest gone comically wrong, I did not hear the end of this for a very long time."

"A literal ankle bitter?"

"It was a weird day." Peter admitted. "I did learn a valuable lesson: a defeated threat is not the same as a neutralized one."

"'Cut off a snake's head and it still has the power to bite.'."

"Exactly." Peter nodded solemnly. "How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts, but I can move it." Neal raised his arm to prove his point with a wince of pain.

"Can I see?"

Neal answered by turning around to expose his back to Peter. After warning him that he was going to do so Peter peeled away the bloody bandage. Neal couldn't find the courage to look over his shoulder at the damage, afraid of making the pain worse by visualizing it. Peter gently touched the outside margin of one of the larger cut to see if it would easily bleed and made a noise of approval when it stayed sealed. The steri-strips had done a good job of helping the wounds and the clotting factor in Neal's blood had done the rest of the job.

"Well?" Neal asked.

"It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be. The glass must have been fairly clean."

"It had alcohol on it." Neal pointed out.

"We still need to keep it clean. Go take a shower, we can replace the bandage and the gauze around your wrists afterward."

"Peter…"

"I will take one as well, after you." Peter assured.

"Just making sure."

"Brush your teeth while you're at it."

"Is my breath that offensive already?" Neal smiled.

"Survival is a game of inches, an infected tooth could be a death sent…" Peter didn't finish his negatively worded thought and switched tactics. "Little things are going to keep us alive, Neal. Keeping clean, sleeping well, staying warm…remaining positive."

Peter's tone suggested he was having a some trouble with his last suggestion at the moment. Neal smiled confidently to show he wasn't anywhere near giving up hope just yet. Peter's expression warmed slightly, but Neal had a feeling that Peter had suggested the shower to have some time alone more than anything else. The hardest part about any long con was keeping up appearances over time, sometimes you needed a break from the facade. Peter would do his best to remain appearing strong as long as Neal was watching, but he needed a chance to release his own anxiety in order to deal with it.

Giving Peter some space as well as genuinely needing a shower Neal got to his feet. After making sure he wasn't going to pass out Neal headed through the archway to the short hall way. He knew that one door held a small pantry, but he wasn't sure what the other door held. Both doors had been slightly ajar when they'd returned from the ring to let them know they'd been unlocked but Neal had been in no condition to care at the time. Curiosity burning Neal opened the door on the left and looked in on a small gym set up complete with a treadmill, a weight bench, various weights, and a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling on a thick chain. Jake clearly wanted them to keep fit for the ring, and the only way they were going to last long was if they complied.

Trying not to think about when their tormentor returned to take them back into the ring Neal closed the door and went into the bathroom. Removing his pants and boxers Neal already wasn't looking forward to crawling back into the dirty clothes. Noticing that the only two towels they had were both covered in dried blood Neal realized that keeping clean was going to be a lot harder than just a quick shower. Neal wasn't sure yet how 'winning' in the ring worked, they had just been given supplies this last time but if in the future they could request items some clean clothes might have to be at the top of the list.

After removing the gauze around his wrists to expose the gory wounds Neal turned on the shower and was overjoyed to find it pleasantly warm. It was a little thing, but Neal had the feeling that the warm shower water rather than being forced under an icy spray was going to be one of those 'little things' that was going to help them get through this ordeal. Ducking under the water Neal let it run through his dark hair for a few minutes. His scalp was sore from both Jake and Campbell taking advantage of his hair's medium length as a convenient hand hold. With no way to cut it shorter Neal knew he had to do better keeping it out of reach, but he wasn't sure how exactly to prevent opponents from exploiting the weakness. Rinsing the blood and dried sweat out of his hair he made a mental note to ask Peter if he had any advice on the matter.

With his hair clean Neal braced his palms against the wall to keep on his feet as he leaned forward to allow the shower spray to rain down on his tattered shoulder. The cuts protested at first but were soon soothed by the drumming heat of the water. Head bowed Neal fell into a slight trance as he watched the water at his feet swirl red with blood as it escaped down the drain. He couldn't help but wonder where the water went and if anyone would notice its sickly hue. When the water ran clear again Neal shook his head to clear it before reaching up and turning the water off. He tilted his head back and ran his hands over his hair to squeeze as much of the water out of it as he could. Picking up one of the stained towels he gingerly dried himself off with it. Pulling on his pants Neal didn't exactly feel clean, but he was far better than he had when he'd started.

There were two toothbrushes in a cup on the sink along with a tube of toothpaste. Arbitrarily claiming the green one as he own he left the red one for Peter, hoping that they'd be able to remember which was which. Considering that they'd both basically been bathing in each others blood accidentally sharing a toothbrush occasionally shouldn't really matter but the thought still turned Neal's stomach. After brushing his teeth Neal felt noticeably better. Opening the medicine cabinet Neal found an electric razor and decided there was no harm in clearing away the rough five o'clock shadow he'd developed.

Washed, minty fresh, and now clean shaven Neal finally looked directly into the mirror surface of the medicine cabinet. He had been avoiding his reflection, fearful of what he'd find. His hair was being unruly, and his left cheek had developed a dark bruise, but all in all he still recognized himself. It wasn't until he glanced down that his mind had a bit of trouble with his body image as he stared at the hexagon maze pattern burned into his skin. Never having had any tattoos or other body modification Neal wasn't prepared for the odd mental jolt that came with his internal self image not matching perfectly with the appearance of the man in the mirror. For reasons he didn't understand looking down at the intricate brand mark didn't have the same startlingly effect as looking at it in the mirror. The clashing images of expectations versus reality made his reflection suddenly feel very alien.

Turning away from the mirror Neal returned to the hall and opened the door to the pantry that Peter had retrieved the bottle of Ensure from the night before. Looking at their options Neal wrinkled his nose and fully understood why the thick vanilla drink had been Peter's first choice. There were five bottles left confirming Neal's suspicions that Peter had barely eaten since the start of their captivity. Although he was currently beyond the point of actually being hungry Neal picked up two of the bottles and headed back into the front room to share.

Neal's heart sank when he found Peter sitting in the corner staring sightlessly into the middle distance. The obvious sign of stress wasn't a surprise, but it was still difficult to witness. When the subway rumbled up over head Peter closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Neal didn't understand why the noise had upset him, during the day the subway passed overhead about every twenty minutes, but Peter had reacted to the sound like it had personally insulting him somehow.

"Peter?"

"That's the first subway I've heard in at least an hour."

"So? Wait…" Neal stopped cold as he realized the implications. "Did we…did we sleep through an entire day?"

"We did." Peter nodded vacantly. "We've been down here at least seventy-two hours."

Peter fell into a heavy silence that Neal instantly understood. When it came to violent kidnapping case the first forty-eight hours were the most critical, however it was at the seventy-two hour mark that the chances of recovering the missing person dropped dangerously close to zero. The FBI wouldn't give up on their Agent after just three days, but they also couldn't devote full department resources to finding them forever. Neal had another chilling realization when Peter started anxiously twisting his wedding band. As hard as the first two days would have been for her Elizabeth's imagination would be outright torturing her now as the odds quickly stacked up against her lost spouse.

Clearly having the same thought Peter closed his eyes as they brightened with tears. He released a heavy controlled breath the way he always did when he was stressed or angry. When he opened his eyes again he had managed to somehow regain his composure. Despite having almost just witnessed it Neal couldn't even imagine Peter breaking down into tears. Even when Keller had kidnapped Elizabeth Peter's mood had oscillated between terrified concern and barely contained murderous rage, but no tears were spilt.

Not knowing what else to do or how to help Neal sat down in front of Peter and offered him a smile in a desperate attempt to lightening his mood. Peter automatically mimicked Neal's tight lipped smile, but his dark eyes remained understandably sorrowful. It was unproductive to ask Peter what was wrong, the problem was obvious and if he wanted to talk about it he would do so without being asked. Remaining silent Neal reached out and carefully put his hand over Peter's hopping the physical contact would accomplish what words would ultimately fail to convey. Looking down at Neal's hand Peter's eyes lost focus for a moment before he shook his head and visibly pulled himself out of his own dark thoughts. Bringing his eyes up to meet Neal's Peter had a renewed conviction burning in them.

"I'm not going to just disappear on Elizabeth forever." Peter stated firmly.

"Of course you aren't." Neal replied confidently. "Firstly: you'd never do that to her."

"And secondly?"

"I won't let you."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"Judge Halloway…"

"You better have something real for me this time, Agent Hughes."

"Not exactly, but…"

"Stop right there. In the past three days I have given you seven highly questionable warrants and other than several pending lawsuits what has it gotten us?"

"Nothing, but…"

"The answer is 'no', I can't keep doing this." Halloway interrupted again. "I know this is personal for you, but I can't just let you invade the private properties of everyone Agent Burke has ever crossed paths with."

"Charlie, please…"

"Look, bring me something, *anything*, a shred of evidence no matter how thin, and I'll have a warrant on your desk in five minutes, but I can't issue another one without at least decent probable cause."

"I have probable cause, my Agent is missing and one of these scumbags is responsible!"

"I'm sorry, Reese, I know how hard this is."

"What do you know about it?" Hughes snarled as his temper flared. "When was the last time someone you were responsible for disappeared?!"

"You're right, I don't have have a team the way you do and I'm sorry this has happened." Halloway said with genuine sympathy. "But I can't help you. I've done all I can."

Hughes slammed his phone down as the Judge hung up on him before shoving it off the desk in a fit of frustrated rage. He knew he shouldn't be angry at Halloway, the Judge really had put his own job on the line by granting the warrants that he had. With no real leads Hughes had been using every resource he had to tear apart the city without even a trace of his missing Agent or his CI. So far they had managed to keep the media out of it, but with the increased raids and activity it was only a matter of time before some reporter caught the scent of blood in the water. Once the kidnapping was public knowledge they were going to have to deal with a flood of false leads from people trying to grab some attention at the cost of the integrity of the investigation.

They had a good idea when the pair was taken and glancing at his watch Hughes took note that they had passed the seventy-two hour mark six hours ago. When everything had started Hughes had been about to pack up to leave for the day when he noticed Peter's office was empty. Diana had been finishing up some paperwork and he'd asked her if she'd heard from him, she hadn't. Peter had taken Caffrey with him to a scheduled appointment to meet with a witness in a fraud case they had been working on that was set for ten am. The pair often worked out in the field all day and didn't always physically return to the Federal Building but Peter was religious about checking in at the end of the day.

Feeling uneasy Hughes had called Peter's phone only for it to go directly to voice mail. Not wanting to raise an alarm just in case it was something as simple as the battery dying on Peter's phone, but also not willing to just assume everything was okay Hughes had tried Caffrey's number and got the same result. With his gut starting to scream at him that something was wrong his head was trying to telling him that if something had happened that the anklet would have alerted them to being cut.

Reminding himself that the anklet wouldn't protest if its wearer was simply dead Hughes slammed his password into the program that tracked Caffrey's whereabouts. At first he had breathed a sigh of relief to see the dot that indicated Caffrey's location was still moving and near the busy corner of 6th and 47th. It wasn't until he hit the button that brought up a full history of Caffrey's movement all day that the bottom of Hughes' stomach opened up into a sickening pit. They had made it to their meeting, but since ten thirty that morning Caffrey had been traveling in a continuous loop around the greater Midtown area at an average speed of twenty-five miles per hour. There was no reason that Caffrey would be circling the city like that for six hours that didn't spell trouble.

Quickly making the decision to send out the alarm a task force had been mobilized within fifteen minutes. The first mission was to hunt down Caffrey and to that affect a SWAT team had been sent out to converge on his location. Pulling over a terrified taxi cab driver they had torn apart the cab and found the still active anklet under the seat. Whoever had taken the pair had been smart enough to search Peter for the small magnetic key that he kept with him in case of emergency. With the tracking device peacefully riding along in the cab they had lost the critical first hours in the investigation. The past three days had been a frantic and frustrating exercise of chasing phantom leads, dead ends, and their what felt like their own tails.

"Sir?"

Hughes jolted at the sound of Diana's voice. He hadn't even realized that he'd been staring blankly at his desk for the past few minutes, at a loss as to what to do next. Hughes looked up hopefully at Diana but the look on her face told him the news she had wasn't good.

"What is it now?"

"Mozzie is here." Diana replied.

"Mozzie?" Hughes asked surprised.

"I can't believe it myself. He's downstairs."

"I'm desperate," Hughes said in a defeated tone "send him in."

"I would but, uh, he's refusing to show proper ID or even give a last name for a Visitor's Badge."

"Just go down there and get him, I'll take the heat for it later."

"Yes, Sir."

Hughes wasn't sure that he had the patience to deal with Caffrey's odd friend at the moment, but his hope was that if the reclusive man was willing to step foot in the Federal Building then he must have something. The FBI dealt with its problems 'in house' whenever possible but right now Hughes would shake hands with the devil himself if he thought it would help. Diana and Mozzie were exchanging a few words of general concern with one another as she lead him into Hughes office. Looking stressed from three days without much sleep Diana backed out of the office leaving Mozzie behind as she closed the glass door. For a long uncomfortable minute the two men just stared at one another. It took Hughes an additional moment to realize that Mozzie had no intention of speaking first.

"Thank you for coming." Hughes said as cordially as he could.

"Thank you for inviting me…oh, wait, I wasn't. You guys didn't even tell me what was happening."

"There is procedure to be followed, this is an FBI matter."

"Neal is my friend and he's missing too."

"Do you have useful information or not?" Hughes growled.

"I have information, I don't know if any of it is actually useful." Mozzie admitted.

"Story of your life I'm sure."

"Hey…"

"I'm sorry." Hughes apologized. "Please, what have you learned?"

"I've learned that despite your best efforts to keep it a secret absolutely everyone whose anyone seems to know that you're missing an Agent, even if half of the people I've talked to don't know his name. People are talking a lot but they are saying nothing at the same time. There's just this…buzz. However the noise is coming from seemingly everywhere and any time I try to get closer to the source of the sound it gets quieter and quieter until there is absolute silence. Whoever has Neal and Peter has enough power to have total loyalty when it comes to keeping the details a secret. About a dozen bosses are taking credit for the kidnapping, but not in a serious manner. Everything I've heard is just bluster and bravado, 'fish stories'."

"You have to know something." Hughes insisted.

"Listen, Suit Supreme, I'm doing everything I can but despite what you might think these kind of violent criminals aren't the circle Neal and I run with."

"I just need a name."

"I don't have one. I would give you one if I had it, but trust me, none of these clowns that are claiming responsibility for this have them."

"How do you know that?"

"They don't have the details of the kidnapping right."

"How do *you* have the details right?" Hughes asked dangerously.

"I…uh…" Mozzie swallowed nervously "I have my sources."

"Elizabeth." Hughes sighed in frustration. "Of course it was her."

"Don't blame Elizabeth, she knew the FBI would never talk to me and she just did what she thought was best to get her husband back."

"I'd be less upset if it had worked."

"I do have one name you can try." Mozzie admitted before hesitating. "I'm not saying he has anything to do with the kidnapping, in fact the opposite, I think he was a victim himself, but he'd be worth talking to, if you can find him. He disappeared after helping Neal on a case, there was a brief rumor that he was back, but now he's gone again, maybe he skipped town cause he's scared. I don't know."

"Enough babbling, what's his name?"

"Anthony Ladderack, aka Craig Stevenson, Jeffrey Mallens, Richard Smith, and uh…I think Samuel Poole. Also known as The Lizard, he has a bit of a skin condition."

"Damn it." Hughes sighed knowing how hard someone with list of aliases was going to be to find particularly if they had left the state. "If you hear or think of anything else you come directly to me with it, understood? I don't want you going after anyone yourself."

"That is not even on my mind, whoever this is is bad enough news to keep anyone who knows them from talking. Usually you can find some truth in the rumors from someone who wants to feel like a big shot and talks a little too much, but there's nothing like that this time."

"Someone has to know something and we will find them."

"Keep me in the loop and I will keep you in the loop." Mozzie said.

"Fine."

"I'll just show myself out then."

"Wait...I need a favor." Hughes said in a defeated tone.

"I've told you eve…"

"No, not that." Hughes interrupted. "It's Elizabeth, I need you to convince her to either go home or go to one of the safe houses. I have Agents already set to stand guard, but she has refused to go. She's been living here since this all started."

"So have you from what I've heard."

"She has to go home." Hughes said firmly. "Please, talk to her. I don't want to be forced into having her removed."

Mozzie just nodded before turning to leave.

"Mozzie, wait…"

Mozzie turned back to face Hughes with a wary expression. Hesitating for a moment Hughes eventually gave in and opened a file on his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper that had black and white drawing of a hexagon with a maze inside and offered it to Mozzie. Taking the page Mozzie studied it, feeling like he had seen it somewhere but he couldn't place where.

"What is this?"

"There were two white cards on Peter's desk with this symbol embossed on them. One we know was Neal's as June told us it had been delivered to the house for him the day he disappeared. The other one we assume was delivered to Peter. Clearly it was a warning but Peter must not have felt it was a credible or immediate threat."

"Does Elizabeth know about this?"

"No, and I want to keep it that way, it will only upset her. I asked her if she had seen any unusual symbols, unmarked mail, or if Peter had mentioned anything along those lines and she said no." Hughes explained.

"I'll see what I can find out."

"Be careful, don't just flash that around." Hughes warned. "This is our best and most sensitive lead. We can't just go around asking everyone if they know this symbol. If Peter and Neal are still alive it's only because whoever has them feels comfortable that we don't know who they are. If that changes they will execute them."

Mozzie's blood ran cold at the thought of Neal and Peter losing their lives because rescue was getting closer, but he knew Hughes was right. The highly organized attack had been pulled off by someone confident enough to leave this breadcrumb behind which wasn't a comforting thought. Memorizing the symbol Mozzie handed it back to Hughes. Unable to help in the search for Peter any further at the moment Mozzie turned his attention on trying to help Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was in Peter's office looking out the window over the city. She looked more composed than Mozzie had been expecting. Her eyes were rimmed in red but it didn't look like she'd been properly crying even if a tear or two had managed to escape now and then. Despite the obvious stress she didn't look like she had lost hope or even like she'd lost any of her confidence in this ending well. Mozzie got the feeling that she fully trusted that Peter would be home and that this would all be over soon, it just wasn't soon enough. Not wanting to startle her Mozzie knocked gentle at the open door. Looking over her shoulder Elizabeth managed to smile at him.

"Mozzie." Elizabeth greeted warmly. "Are you here to 'remove' me?"

"I'm only here to politely suggest that you let me take you home, but if you want to stay…"

"No, I should go home." Elizabeth said sadly.

"I could stay with you if you'd like."

"Thank you."

"Of course." Mozzie held his hand out. "Come on."

It took Elizabeth a moment to actually make a move to leave her vigil by the window and join Mozzie. The Agents that Hughes had assigned to protect her offered the pair a ride to the house so that they could set up watch outside. They had offered to take her to a safe house instead but she had insisted on wanting to go home. Mozzie was grateful that Elizabeth didn't ask him anything about what he had heard as they rode towards the house in silence. Mozzie didn't believe any of what he had heard but none of it had been anything he would tell Elizabeth even if he did.

Arriving at the house Elizabeth thanked the Agents for keeping a watch over them before inviting Mozzie inside. Elizabeth had mentioned that friends were taking care of Satchmo for her so the house was completely deserted. Elizabeth only made it a few steps into the living room before she stopped suddenly. Mozzie held his breath as he watched her look around the empty house knowing that it was going to be harder for her to keep up her brave front here than it had been back at Peter's office.

Bringing her hand up over her mouth Elizabeth fought bitterly against the tears that were brightening her eyes. Hating to see her in pain Mozzie swallowed hard against his own emotions of fear and loss. He reached up and gently put his hand on her shoulder to encourage her to just give in to a cathartic moment of weakness. Pushed over the edge by the show of support Elizabeth broke down into a heartbreaking weep. Mozzie collected her in a comforting embrace and allowed her to cry against his shoulder. Mozzie had feared that being surrounded by memories of her missing spouse the weight of possibility never seeing him again would crush down on her, but at the same time it was a demon she had to face.

"We are going to find them." Mozzie assured.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth apologized through her tears.

"It's okay."

"I'm so sorry." Elizabeth whimpered again. "Please forgive me, Mozzie."

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Yes there is. I keep having this terrible thought, it's selfish and I hate that it brings me comfort." Elizabeth continued breathlessly. "You know I love Neal and that I would never wish him harm, he's family to me, you both are. Still…I…I can't help thinking…I know it's horrible, but…"

"Elizabeth…"

"I'm grateful that Neal's with Peter."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Ugh, Peter, your breath…"

"Sorry about that."

"That is powerful." Neal wrinkled his nose. "Wait, did you…did you eat that cat food Jake left us?"

"Honestly it's not much different than regular canned tuna."

"Or deviled ham?" Neal teased.

"Or deviled ham." Peter agreed with a smile.

"Actually it's probably healthier than deviled ham, less salt if nothing else."

"Salt never killed anyone." Peter shrugged.

"That's not even remotely true." Neal chuckled. "Seriously though, there is no reason to be eating that just yet. We still have better options."

"I'm leaving most of that for you, you have a far more refined pallet that I do."

"I can't argue that point, but we still need to divide resources equally."

"No." Peter shook his head. "That is what York and Jake are counting on. Equality isn't going to keep up alive it will just end in you weakening quicker than me."

"Peter..."

"Facts are facts, Neal. I have more mass to start with than you and therefor more I can safely lose, not to mention you have a significantly faster metabolism."

"It's been slowing down lately." Neal lamented.

"You can't make it an hour through a stake out without complaining of being hungry." Peter pointed out rolling his eyes.

"That's more about being bored than hungry per se."

"That I believe." Peter smiled. "Still, I know what I'm doing, Neal, trust me."

"Fine." Neal sighed. "But I did have my eye on that Fancy Feast Duck Pate."

"I left that one for you. I'm more of a 'Nine Lives' man."

Neal laughed and then not so gently suggesting that Peter go back and try brushing his teeth again. Peter had brushed them during a much needed shower, but after the feline snack he agreed that it wouldn't hurt to try again. Appreciating that Neal was still able to laugh easily Peter got to his feet and wandered back towards the bathroom. He glanced through the open door that held the small gym behind it, if there were going to be down here much longer they were going to have to use it. For mental health if for no other reason. He had been concerned that Jake was going to return to drag them back out to the ring tonight, but hours had passed since the subway had quieted down so apparently there was no fight tonight. Peter was relieved that they had a chance to catch their breath, but eventually even in a dire situation monotony and boredom were going to become a threat that they'd have to combat as well. Peter also knew that he was going to have to teach Neal to fight, but he couldn't face that reality right now, and Neal's shoulder needed to heal for at least twenty-four hours to reduce the risk of just reopening it while training.

In the bathroom Peter did his best not to look in the mirror. It wasn't that he couldn't stomach the sight of the bruising and blood himself, it was that seeing the injuries made him think about what Elizabeth's reaction to the sight would be. He'd come home from work with a black eye or a few stitches on more than one occasion, particularly during his earlier years with the FBI, and it never failed to deeply upset her. He had tried the first time to reassure her by saying it could have been a lot worse but that was exactly the thought that bothered her so much when he came home with a minor injury.

Brushing the fishy taste away as best he could Peter rinsed the minty foam out of his mouth and dismissed the blood that tainted the water when he spat. With the bite mark in his arm throbbing painfully and radiating heat he spent a moment just running it under cold water. After having taken showers they both needed to have the cuts around their wrists rewrapped, but they hadn't gotten around to it yet. After turning off the water Peter went over to the supply box and knelt down find the gauze when he was interrupted by Neal rushing into the bathroom with an excited aura that gave Peter the distinct impression that if Neal had a tail it would be wagging right now.

"Neal?"

"I think the FBI found us." Neal beamed.

"What?"

"'Clear!'." A distant voice in the hall called. "'Move down, door on the right, announce before breach.'."

Peter scrambled to his feet at hearing the distinctive orders of SWAT on a sweep. Following Neal out into the main room Peter and hurried over to the door with him, elated by the thought of rescue. However when Neal reached out to throw the deadbolt Peter reached out and stopped him. Neal flashed Peter a questioning look that quickly turned to one of anxiety when he noticed the concern etched into Peter's brow. The pair both jerked back when a heavy hand pounded on the door from the far side.

"FBI!" A strong voice barked. "Anyone inside identify yourself!"

"We're here, one by one." Peter replied.

"One by one?" Neal questioned quietly.

"One Agent, one civilian." Peter explained.

"Agent Burke?" The voice asked directly before sounding like he'd turned to talk to someone else. "Command, I think we found them. Agent Burke, is that you? Can you open the door?"

"I can't believe they found us."

"Neither can I." Peter said seriously.

"Agent?" The man asked. "Can you open the door?"

"What's your badge number?" Peter demanded.

"Sir?"

"Your badge number, what is it?"

"…790-555-29131."

Neal swore under his breath as he backed away from the door dragging his hands through his still damp hair in disappointed frustration. Peter took a step back as well with a sickening pit churning in his stomach as the hope of rescue was shattered. He obviously didn't know the ID number of every Agent, but all FBI badge numbers were alphanumeric not just a string of numbers. Getting so close to rescue and having it taken away made it feel like the walls suddenly closed in around them a little closer. Peter's claustrophobic reaction to the deception was quickly followed by a flash of rage.

"I know it's you, Sawyer." Peter snarled.

"Very clever, Burke." Sawyer chuckled. "I wasn't expecting you to call my bluff like that. I thought you'd be too desperate for a chance out. You have to admit though Alan did a good acting job. I would have opened the door for him. Did your boyfriend fall for it? I'd love to see the look on his face right now or yours for that matter."

Neal shot a deadly glare at the closed door but to Peter's relief he didn't engage with Sawyer in a pointless argument. However when Sawyer and his friends laughed Neal stepped forward aggressively and raised his arm as though he was going to strike the solid door. Stepping between him and door Peter put his hand on Neal's chest to calm him and shook his head to remind him that Sawyer wanted nothing more than to get a rise out of him. Although still clearly seeing red Neal put his hands up peacefully and stepped back. Neal ground his teeth together and paced back and forth a few steps as his excitement at the prospect of rescue turned to an angry frustrated nervous energy. Peter was right there with him but knew he couldn't show how furious he was with Sawyer's deception if he was going to keep the situation from escalating.

"It's awful quiet in there, you two alright?" Sawyer snickered. "Hey, I'll make a deal with you, Caffrey, open the door and I'll let you liv…"

"Sawyer!" Jake's voice suddenly barked. "What did I tell you about Burke?"

"What? He's a dead man anyway, I don't see why you don't just hand him over. I'm starting to think you've got a crush on these two." Sawyer taunted.

"I'm going to crush your skull if you don't leave them alone!"

"Look I know you'd rather not deal with me, just let me kill Burke and I promise to leave your precious Labyrinth."

"We both know you'd just be back in a week, you are by far the *worst* gambler I've ever dealt with." Jake said in obvious disdain. "You know eventually York is going to get sick of letting you pay off your debts in the ring and when he does I'm going to take great personal pleasure in branding you and then throwing you to the wolves. You won't have your friends then, and you won't last a week without their protection down here."

"Don't think for one second that I'm not eagerly waiting for the day that you fall out of favor with York yourself." Sawyer sneered. "I can't imagine you'll be under his protection forever."

"Fuck off before I decide to take more than just your key away from you."

Peter and Neal had been listening to the confrontation outside with their breath held. Jake was a dangerous psychopath but he was also their main line of defense against Sawyer. If Jake ever decided that he was tired of them all he had to do was let Sawyer off his leash. Peter also worried about Sawyer losing his patience and breaking free of whatever hold Jake had on him and just decide to attack Jake directly. Jake had keys into their room and Sawyer knew that. However Jake's unusual power over Sawyer held and Sawyer backed down and left with his friends.

Peter jerked as he heard the key grinding into the lock and he backed away from the door forcing Neal to step back as well. He didn't back them up against the wall but he wanted to put some distance between them and Jake when the door opened. Neal allowed Peter to guide him back but once they were a safe distance Neal stepped up to be at his side rather than hide behind him. Jake invited himself into the room, leaving the door open, he looked the pair over and smiled at them as though he was genuinely happy to see them.

"Glad to see you're not stupid enough to fall for Sawyer's tricks." Jake smiled. "Although I have to say that you two are very lucky that I hate him more than, well more than just about anything. The enemy of my enemy and all that, right?"

"What do you want, Jake?" Peter asked rather than responded.

"What? Not even a 'thank you'?" Jake smiled. "Fine, be that way. Caffrey get your sweet ass over here, I want to borrow you for a little while."

"Jake, please, stop this." Peter said as he stepped out in front of Neal. "It really is only a matter of time before the FBI finds us, help us before that happens and I will protect you."

"You can't protect me from York."

"York?" Neal questioned. "Jake, are you afraid of him?"

"Everyone is afraid of York." Jake said matter-of-factly. "Now stop stalling and get over here before I lose my temper."

"He's not going anywhere without me." Peter said firmly as he held his arm to out to make sure Neal didn't step forward.

"Is that so?" Jake asked dangerously.

Peter knew that saying 'no' to Jake was a quick way to anger him but he couldn't just stand-by and let Jake separate them. Peter braced himself expecting Jake to pull out his baton and rush at him, but Jake just smiled mischievously.

"Sawyer!" Jake called. "I know you didn't go far, get back here if you want your shot at Burke!"

"No," Neal said quickly as he stepped around Peter "I'll go with you."

"Neal…"

"It will be okay, I'll be back. I promise." Neal said with more confidence than he felt. "If Jake just wanted to kill me he would have done so by now, and if he wants to hurt me refusing to follow him isn't going to stop him."

"He's not wrong." Jake chuckled.

Although he did so reluctantly Peter honored Neal's decision to leave peacefully and backed down. He had several ideas as to what Jake would want with him alone and none of them were good. Clearly having the same thought Neal flashed him a brave smile before turning to follow Jake. Jake motioned for him to turn around and Neal did so, automatically bringing his hands behind his back knowing Jake was going to want to secure them there. Peter winced in empathy as Jake tightened a plastic tie around Neal's wrists that he had never gotten the chance to rewrap.

Understandably having trouble with his decision despite his early resolution Neal looked up at Peter with barely contained panic sparkling in his sapphire eyes before he forced himself into a blank stare of resignation. Jake pulled on his injured shoulder to get him to turn around. Neal bit down on his lip but didn't give Jake the satisfaction of crying out as he was turned around and shoved out into the hall.

"Jake, please don't do this." Peter begged. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't take him."

"Don't worry, Burke," Jake winked "I'll bring your friend back…when I'm done with him."

Jake's taunting innuendo was more than Peter could take but he only got as far as clenching his fists before Jake sprung into action and attacked first. Even though he had just been about to charge Peter was taken off guard when Jake rushed him forcing him to take a step back which set him off balance and less capable of defending himself.

"Peter!"

Neal's warning cry didn't help as Jake pulled out his metal baton with practiced ease. With blinding speed Jake struck the side of Peter's leg that was already bruised from the last time he had attacked him. As Peter collapsed from the debilitating blow Jake brought his knee up into his stomach before letting him drop to make sure he wouldn't get back up again. Gasping for breath again a powerful fit of dry heaving Peter couldn't even pull away when Jake bent down to growl in his ear.

"Do yourself a favor, Burke, don't even bother imagining what I'm going to do to Caffrey, I can guarantee you what I actually have planned is far worse."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

__

_"Neal!"_

Hearing Peter's distant desperate cry washed a sickening amount of adrenaline through Neal's already keyed up system as Jake forced him further down the dank hall. Peter slammed into the door behind them but apparently Jake had some way of locking it from the outside as well. Terrified as he was to be alone with Jake Neal was grateful he'd locked Peter inside the room, Sawyer had slunk off with his tail between his legs but he probably hadn't gone far and once out in the tunnels Peter would be fair game. Jake seemed to be able to keep Sawyer somewhat at bay but he doubted he could keep Peter safe once Sawyer actually got his hands on him.

Jake brought Neal's focus back to his own problems when he shoved him to the left to get him to turn down another hallway as he lead him further from Peter. Jake didn't say anything along their journey which Neal found far more unnerving than his usual casual chatting. Coming to a seemingly random door Jake reached out and grabbed Neal's upper arm to stop him and after unlocking the door he pushed him through into the small room. With his heart pounding Neal looked around the mostly featureless room that was about half the size of the front room that he and Peter shared. Up against the far wall was a small padlocked cabinet, to the right was a sturdy wooden table with nothing on it and a lone wooden armless chair.

Jake guided Neal towards the table before using both hands against his middle back to shove Neal into the table with a considerable amount of force. With his hands bound behind his back Neal was unable to catch himself as he doubled over when the edge of the table slammed into his stomach. Before Neal could try to push himself away from the table Jake hooked his hand under Neal's left knee and forced his leg up onto the table holding him down in the vulnerable position with a firm hand. Jake quickly leaned forward and pressed himself against Neal's back to further restrain him.

"Get off me!" Neal snarled pointlessly as he attempted to buck Jake off, unfortunately his attacker had all of the leverage.

"I like it when you make demands, it's adorable." Jake purred in Neal's ear. "Feel free to scream, no one who cares can hear you and I think you'll find it helps. At the very least I'll enjoy it, you've got a great voice."

Neal ground his teeth together to keep himself from snarling an insult at Jake knowing he would just laugh at him. Not getting the reaction he'd hoped for Jake leaned more of his weight against him causing Neal's throat closed in on him as he started to choke on his own fear. It had been one thing to be at the psychopath's mercy in the somewhat public setting of the ring, it was proving to be far worse dealing with him in private where might not hesitate to get intimate. Welding his eyes shut Neal concentrated on just trying to take his next breath which Jake's suffocating weight wasn't making any easier.

Knowing how much Jake enjoyed a struggle Neal worked on doing his best to deny him the satisfaction of it, hoping to just get this encounter over with. However not fighting back took far more effort than he expected as it intensified his panic to not follow his instinct to at least attempt 'fight or flight'. Feeling like he might actually pass out Neal gasped sharply as Jake suddenly tousled his hair and laughed like an older brother adding insult to injury after pinning his sibling down while rough housing.

"Relax, Caffrey, I'm just messing with you." Jake teased.

Neal jolted as Jake lifted his weight off him and then firmly slapped him across the backside as if his assault had been a harmless fraternity prank.

"I'm not going to rape you," Jake assured "although I am going to do this…"

"Ja…"

Cut off by an all too familiar pain Neal cried out as Jake jabbed into the back of his thigh that he'd pinned up on the table with the same taser that he'd used on him before. Surprised by the painful shock Neal tried to kick at Jake but the powerful electrical current kept his leg from responding. Jake backed up and grabbed Neal's shoulder to pull him up off the table. Attempting to stand on his own Neal instantly collapsed to the floor as his muscles twitched uselessly. Rolling his eyes Jake reached down and hauled Neal up and threw him into the armless wooden chair. Trying to get his bearings Neal shook his head to clear it as he fought to control his panting breath.

"Don't worry, in fifteen minutes you'll just be left with a bit of a limp for a day or so." Jake assured. "I do want you looking like you've had a rough time of it."

"Wha…wait, this isn't about me, it's about Peter." Neal hissed at Jake.

"No, it's about you as well. Although I do get to kill two birds with one stone this way." Jake said proudly. "Burke's going to spend the next hour sick to his stomach tormented by all the possibilities of what you're going through running through his mind, a humiliating sexual assault probably being at the top of the list. In fact I'm willing to bet he won't even believe you if you try to tell him I didn't take advantage of you."

"Why are you doing this to us?" Neal growled angrily. "Isn't it enough that you're forcing us to fight and starving us?"

"I gotta train my dogs." Jake chuckled.

"Wha…what?"

"I need Burke to be better motivated the next time he steps into the ring and admittedly torturing you minutes before your own fight wasn't my brightest idea. I had to cut your fight in half and you still almost got slaughtered." Jake explained in a rueful tone. "After this little stunt he'll do anything to keep from being separated from you again."

Neal glowered spitefully at Jake, knowing he was right and hating him for it. They may find strength in one another but that same bond was just as easily used against them to great affect. Reading the look in Neal's eyes perfectly Jake smiled loftily. Jake ran his eyes over his prey for a moment before he settled his gaze on the raw brand over Neal's heart. When Jake reached out to touch it Neal jerked back nearly causing the chair he was sitting in to tip back. Bringing his knee up Jake pressed it down into Neal's leg to steady him before reaching out again and tracing a path through the maze pattern on the brand. Even though he used a surprisingly gentle touch the brand still flared painfully as the exposed nerves reacted to the stimulus.

"You know what I like most about this design?" Jake said more to himself than Neal. "It's an impossible maze, every path just leads to a dead end, there's no way out..."

Neal furrowed his brow as Jake's eyes lost some their focus as he stared at the mark as if he was having some kind of deep metaphysical thought even though as far as Neal was concerned a maze with no solution simply wasn't a maze at all, it was just a pointless series of lines. Snapping out of his momentary trance Jake rubbed the back of his hand against his own chest as he seemingly lost interest in Neal and stepped back. Neal kept a wary eye on Jake as he circled around behind him and headed for the small cabinet. Neal glanced over at the door but even if it wasn't locked it would be nearly impossible to open quickly with his hands still bound. Even if he did get out into the hall he didn't have anywhere to go. He wasn't confident that he could get back to Peter, he had been too distracted on their walk here to remember all of the turns they had taken.

When Jake unlocked the cabinet Neal wasn't sure he wanted to know what was inside as his treasonous heart started to race again. As hard as he tried to keep calm mentally his body seemed to have a different plan as his stomach knotted up and his tired muscles trembled slightly. Reaching into the cabinet Jake pulled a large unlabeled bottle of deep amber liquid and a tumbler glass. Jake brought his prizes over to the table and poured half a glass of the liquor. Drink in hand Jake stepped up to Neal with a mischievous smile as he suddenly straddled Neal's legs and sat down heavily on his hips facing him. Neal pushed into the back of the chair as Jake deeply invaded his personal space.

"What are yo…"

"I hate to drink alone." Jake announced.

"Then go make some friends." Neal spat.

"You've got good fire, Caffrey, I like you." Jake said resting one arm over Neal's injured shoulder casually. "You know it's not often I get someone like you or Burke down here. Most of the men York gives me are either complete cowards that cry and beg for mercy at the slightest touch or are so violent that I don't dare play with them. You two are a perfect mix of both. I want to see you two succeed down here, I really do."

"Then stop torturing us and help us." Neal retorted as blood started to roll down his back from the cuts Jake was aggravating.

"I strongly prefer to do both."

"You're insane."

Jake shrugged without disagreeing and knocked back the glass of alcohol in his hand, finishing with a noise as though it was stronger than he had been expecting. Neal tensed as Jake shifted most of his weight onto his injured leg when he went to pour another glass. Neal turned his head away when Jake tried to offer him a pull at the strong smelling liquor.

"This isn't a request, Caffrey, this is an order. Drink."

"No."

Jake sighed in mock exasperation before tangling his free hand into Neal's hair and forced his head back. Neal tried to keep his lips sealed but the fumes from the high proof alcohol were keeping him from being able to get much oxygen through his nose while it was buried in the wide mouth of the tumbler glass. Eventually having to take a gasping breath Neal quickly found the warm liquid filling his mouth and burning the back of his throat. Face with the choice of drink or drown Neal swallowed the toxic tasting liquid. The liquor burned a path down his throat and he could almost feel it hitting his blood stream as it coursed into his empty stomach. Neal coughed and sputtered when Jake pulled the glass away as his lungs violently protested the small amount of liquor that had managed to invade them. Neal convulsively retched up a small amount of the amber fluid but most of it had already absorbed into his starving system.

"Powerful isn't it?" Jake chuckled.

Still gasping for breath Neal couldn't deny the strength of the drink as it soaked into his veins that were already low on blood from his injuries and quickly warped his thinking. Jake gave him a moment to recover from the first dram before offering him another. Neal clenched his jaw shut and shook his head in almost childish refusal but Jake just repeated his previous trick. This time when the fiery liquid hit his stomach it instantly came back up again, but with Jake holding his head back he couldn't just spit it out. Panic washed over him as he nearly filled his lungs with the warm volatile contents of his stomach. Swallowing hard Neal sucked for breath before going into another coughing fit that left him painfully breathless. Jake waited for him to get in one good breath before he forced another gulp of the almost ether like substance down his throat and then put the glass down.

Nauseous and dizzy with the alcohol burning his senses Neal fought to get Jake off his lap. Easily bracing his feet against the floor Jake was able to keep his seat as Neal continued to work to try and move him. Jake let Neal fight him for a minute before deciding to put an end to it by flicking his finger against Neal's brand with an audible snap. Arching back Neal pulled at the bloody ties around his wrist as he cried out in renewed pain. Once his head was back Neal found it difficult to right himself again as the alcohol and stress stole his sense of control. Staring up at the water stained concrete ceiling the horror of his situation closed in on him as his thoughts stumbled over one another. Welding his eye shut as tears streaked his face Neal wailed senselessly.

Jake waited for Neal to take a breath before he helped him bring his head forward again. When Neal caught Jake's gaze he could swear he saw a trace of pity in his tormentor's cold eyes. Neal didn't have time to analyze the look as Jake reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. Neal's already heavily taxed heart slammed harder against his ribs but before he could beg Jake not to sink the blade into him Jake simply used it to reach around and slash through the plastic tie. With his prisoner cut free Jake quickly got to his feet and stepped aside. The moment he was free Neal jumped to his feet but when the ground seemed to shift beneath him he staggered drunkenly to the side before ending up on his knees. Pitching forward onto his hands Neal battled to control his reeling senses and rebelling stomach.

"You're a cheap date, Caffrey." Jake chuckled. "Of course you're probably not used to drinking what basically amounts to turpentine on an empty stomach."

Jake circled Neal like a vulture flying over a wounded animal, not attacking, just waiting for nature to take its course. Neal did feel like if he just let go that he could just pass out, but he wasn't about to leave himself completely defenseless against Jake like that. Neal was about to try and get back to his feet when Jake leaned down and struck his injured shoulder. Recoiling from the painful strike Neal reared back and up onto his knees. Quickly loosing his balance in the other direction Neal landed hard and scrambled back until he slammed into the cabinet. When Jake turned to face him Neal put his hand up in a silent plea for peace.

"Don't do that. Seriously, you're just asking to get your wrist snapped, you're lucky Richards was inexperienced in the ring when you tried it with him." Jake said sternly. "Never try and surrender, none of your future opponents are going to show you that kind of mercy. Fight like a cornered animal if you become one."

"Stay away from me!" Neal cried out.

Ignoring Neal's demand Jake walked up and crouched down in front on him. Shaking violently as he teetered on the edge of his endurance Neal didn't even think to lash out at Jake. Breathing heavily Neal started dry heaving against the poison Jake had forced down his throat. He feared that Jake would attack him again now while he was rendered even more helpless by his rebelling stomach, but Jake just reached out and put his hand on his shoulder to try and help steady him.

"Deep breath, try and focus. You have to fight through moments like this." Jake said gently. "Come on, Caffrey, pull yourself together. Don't let yourself spiral out of control. Fight back, hit me, you can do it."

"What are you doing?" Neal whimpered.

"I'm helping you." Jake said seriously. "Your main issue in the ring is that once you start to fail your panic takes over. You can't just put your hands up in surrender when you become disoriented by pain or fear. This is a learning experience. If you can center yourself when you're like this you'll be able to do it easier when your sober in the ring. Now fight!"

Baring his teeth angrily at Jake Neal reached up and shoved him away. Jake stumbled back but managed to keep his balance. Standing up Jake looked down on Neal with a bright smile.

"Excellent!" Jake approved. "Now get up, fight me."

"No!" Neal spat defiantly.

"Fine." Jake sighed.

Neal had no interest in playing the part of a dog being baited into training, however he had little choice when Jake went to kick him. Neal tried to move out of the way but the alcohol and the fact that he hadn't had a chance to recover from his fight with Richards slowed him down. Unable to escape Neal curled up in an attempt to absorb some of the blow. Jake kicked him with almost enough force to break ribs but stopped just shy of actually doing so. Jake pulled his foot back to kick him again but just held at the ready.

"I will beat you to death here and now if you don't do something to stop me!" Jake roared. "Don't just defend yourself, attack! Don't make me deliver your pathetic battered corpse to your friend!"

Jake's final threat triggered a far deeper response than any of his previous ones and with a sudden determined rage Neal launched himself at his psychotic teacher. Jake probably could have stepped out of the way of Neal's clumsy attack but he allowed Neal to slam into his midsection and drive him back fully across the small room. Jake grunted as he was knocked breathless against the door but he quickly chuckled as Neal finally went on the offensive. Further enraged Neal slammed his fist into the side of Jake's ribs twice in rapid succession.

Having had enough Jake put his hands on Neal's chest making sure his palm was against the brand and shoved him back. Still intoxicated Neal staggered back but he stayed on his feet this time. Squaring his shoulders Neal didn't back down when Jake stepped closer and took a swing at him. Taking his shot a little too soon he connected with the side of Jake's face but not with full force since Jake was still slightly out of his reach. An effective punch was all about precision and timing and Neal lacked skill in both, however at the moment he was making up for it with sheer determination. Jake let Neal try again but this time lashed out and caught his wrist. Forcing Neal around Jake yanked his wrist up between his shoulder blades and used the leverage to push him back down on the table knocking over what was left of the alcohol. Roaring in anger and frustration Neal fought bitterly to free himself forcing Jake to dig his hand into one of the deep cuts in his shoulder to take some of the fight out of him that he'd just worked to put into him.

"There you go, Caffrey, much better." Jake praised. "You can fight through anything if you try hard enough, trust me."

"I'm going to kill you!" 

"That's the spirit! Good dog."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Again thank you to everyone who has supported this story! I very much appreciate it! Neal and Peter on the other hand are not as amused. ;)

Chapter Fourteen

Agitated and growing increasingly anxious as the seconds ticked by Peter stopped his pointless pacing and wrapped his arms over his stomach as his emotional distressed transformed into a searing physical pain. The longer Neal was gone with Jake the harder it was becoming to keep his mounting panic and increasingly active imagination under any kind of control. Peter had kept quiet about it but he had dreaded from the start that Jake would turn to Neal to slake his unsavory thirsts for pain, violence, and power in an act of depraved brutality against him. Neal had been brave about leaving with Jake and Peter admired that but he also felt guilty knowing that Neal only cooperated in order to keep Jake from retaliating against them both. Once they were alone Neal would fight harder against him, but he simply wasn't a match for Jake's strength and skill.

Grinding his teeth against a wave of nausea Peter first cursed Jake for taking Neal in the first place and them himself for not doing more to stop him. Beyond being unable to help Neal now Peter feared that he was going to be just as useless to help him in the aftermath. The FBI had done some training in comforting victims, although Peter felt that 'managing' was a better term for it than actually comforting them. It had mostly been about quick fixes to snap victims of violence out of shock long enough to get some useful information out of them to help go after their attackers before handing them over to professional psychologists. The two days worth of training had done nothing to prepared him to be able to help his friend cope with a devastating trauma in any meaningful way.

"There will be no quick fixes for any of this." Peter sighed to himself miserably.

A chilling wash of adrenaline poured through Peter's veins as the subway rattled the stone above him. The way time moved agonizingly slow during times of stress had made it difficult for Peter to know how long Neal had been gone. He had hoped that the time lapse had been closer to minutes, however the clockwork running of the late night transit system told him that Neal had been subjected to Jake's torments for over an hour now. Coming up with a myriad horrifying reasons why things were taking so long the imaginary knife twisting in his stomach was joined by an alarming pressure around his heart. Recognizing the symptom as a simple panic attack and not a true cardiac issue didn't help Peter feel any better.

Suddenly panting for breath Peter went back over to the door and slammed his shoulder into the locked steel door for the dozenth time since Jake had locked him in. He could practically hear Mozzie's voice telling him that the 'definition of insanity was trying the same thing over and over again expecting different results' but he had reached his limit for standing idly by and doing nothing. Just like the other times he'd struck the door it proved once again to be unmovable. Angered by the door's indifference to his assault Peter put more effort into beating himself against it.

After two more fruitless tries to break the heavy door down Peter backed away and raked his fingers through his hair finding it drenched in a cold sweat. Fighting the debilitating combination of fear and frustration Peter found himself digging his fingers into the angry bite wound in his arm. The results were surprisingly calming as he used the self-inflicted pain that he could control to drown out the pain of helplessness that he couldn't do anything about. Peter was to the point of drawing blood when he heard Neal angrily snarling incoherently at Jake in the hallway.

Peter gave serious consideration to standing by the door to ambush Jake when he opened it but he decided that right now it was more important to just get Neal away from him as quickly as possible and the fastest way to do that was to keep back. As satisfying as it would be killing Jake at this point wouldn't help their situation, in fact with the way Sawyer always backed down from him Peter got the distinct impression that the only way out of her was through Jake. Without Jake there was a good chance that York would just seal the Labyrinth into a tomb, even if he didn't he'd just send someone to take Jake's place.

Even having talked himself through the pointlessness of seeking revenge Peter still had to use all his willpower to stick to his plan not to rush Jake as he heard the key grinding in the lock. Peter clenched his hands into tight fists when he heard Neal yelp before there was the sound of brief struggle followed by a breathless sputtering that gave Peter the impression that Jake had just driven his knee into Neal's stomach. His fear was confirmed when Jake kicked open the door and revealed that Neal was doubled over as he tried to catch his breath.

Jake had Neal by the back of the neck and practically threw him into the room. Peter rushed up to meet Neal as he stumbled forward and caught him. Unable to keep Neal on his feel he eased him down to his knees. Following him down Peter kept his hands lightly on Neal's shoulders as he pitched forward onto his hands and started dry heaving uncontrollably. Without thinking Peter went to card his hand into Neal's hair to try and help comfort him. Considering how often that exact move had been used to painfully control him lately Neal jerked away violently. Nearly losing his balance despite already being on his hands and knees Neal cried out angrily before continuing to lose the battle over his rebelling stomach to the point where he was barely able to breathe. Clearly having no real hold on what was going on around him Neal weakly struggled to escape from Peter.

"Neal…"

Startled by Peter's voice Neal pulled his head up. Misjudging the force necessary he clumsily reared up, sitting back heavily on his heels Neal ended up staring up at the ceiling before managing to bring his head back to a neutral position. Momentarily freed from the violent stomach heaving Neal stared blankly at Peter as he slowly worked on recognizing him. The moment that Neal put the pieces together he visibly relaxed to the point of near collapse forcing Peter to reach out and put his hands on his shoulders to steady him. Peter stared at him in horror, Neal was in far worse shape that he had feared with the confusion, the blood dripping down his face from his temple and the dazed look in his glassy stare he looked like he was suffering from a massive concussion. When Neal exhaled heavily Peter was given a different explanation for his friend's symptoms when he caught the distinct powerful scent of alcohol.

"How's his breath?" Jake asked knowingly.

"What the hell did you do to him?!"

"Do you honestly want to know?" Jake mocked. "Let's just say I put a fire in his belly…among other things."

Peter's blood boiled at Jake's winking tone but it was Neal that suddenly twisted around with a roar of rage and went to launch himself at Jake in a drunken haze. Distracted from his own anger Peter automatically lashed out and caught Neal around the waist to hold him back. Still kneeling on the floor Peter held Neal against his chest to prevent him from going after Jake, partly because it was his instinct to prevent violence, but mostly because he knew that Neal would just end up on the floor if he tried to fight Jake. Neal fought bitterly but briefly to free himself before giving in and resting against his captor while gulping heavily for air as if he'd just run a marathon. Bowing his head Neal whimpered pitifully as the room undoubtedly spun around him. Not knowing how else to help Peter just held on to him as exhaustion and alcohol stole what little strength Neal had left. Jake waited patiently for Peter to look up at him with a deadly glare which eventually he did.

"I want you to remember this moment the next time I tell you to do something, Burke." Jake said darkly. "Your cooperation will directly determine whether or not this happens to him again. Never assume that I can't make things worse for either one of you."

"Jake…"

"If you don't behave and there is a next time you're going to know exactly what I do to him because I'm going to make you watch."

Every muscle in Peter's body snapped tight as his usually even temper quickly eroded away at his better judgment. Feeling the increased tension Neal started to become agitated again. Holding Neal tighter Peter fought to remind himself that Jake's fuse was more like a switch and an aggressive act now could easily lead to getting them both killed. Neal was in no condition to even pretend to defend himself and as motivated as he was Peter was still no match for Jake while he remained armed with the metal baton that he'd shown amazing proficiency with. Easily reading Peter's thought process Jake stared him down in an open challenge that he knew Peter wasn't going to accept. With a noise of frustration and disgust Peter looked away as he silently admitted defeat.

"Good call, Burke. Save this feeling though, it will serve you well in the ring." Jake said seriously. "The next fight is tomorrow night, put on a good enough show and I'll cancel Caffrey's round."

"No!" Neal protested as he started to blindly try to escape Peter again. "He's not fighting for you, you sick ba..."

"Think about it, Burke." Jake said ignoring Neal. "It could be a life and death call, he's going to have a hell of a hangover to contend with tomorrow."

Peter didn't give Jake an answer either way, he just kept a hold of Neal to keep him from attempting another uncoordinated attack. Nearly losing consciousness from the renewed effort Neal spat and swore in inebriated frustration as he rested against Peter again when his body refused to cooperate with his desires in any meaningful way. With his attention locked on Jake Peter didn't miss the brief look of empathy tinged with genuine sorrow that clouded his usually smug expression as he watched Neal struggle. It wasn't the first time Peter had seen him hesitate in his role of torturer. He was quick to anger and clearly delighted in having the upper hand, but at the same time moments of something very close to compassion kept slipping through. Peter strongly suspected that there was more than just pure loyalty to York that kept Jake working down here. Before Peter could try to capitalize in Jake's volatile mood that had momentarily swung in their direction Jake's personality switched again and he sneered at his captives before he turned away and quickly left. Slamming the door shut he left the pair in a moment of palpable silence that was all the more deafening in the wake of the stressful encounter.

"Coward." Neal snarled quietly.

"I'm sor…"

"Not you, him."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

With the floor feeling like it was pitching below him and bile stinging the back of his throat Neal knew Peter was talking to him but he couldn't focus on the words right now. A combination of alcohol and rage was clouding his senses as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Peter had been helping him sit up but as soon as Jake was gone he went to lay him down on the cold floor. Despite Peter's general soothing tone Neal panicked as his intoxication started to develop into true alcohol poisoning, bringing along with it a confusion that was getting worse as his adrenaline started to fade.

Peter tried to assure him once more that he was just getting up to lock the door but by the time he'd said the words Neal forgot them. Feeling exposed on the floor in the center of the room Neal poured all of his concentration into rolling over onto his belly before shakily getting to his hands and knees to attempt to crawl over to the far corner where they had been sleeping. When Peter returned from locking the door and tried to help him up Neal instinctively lashed out at him. Not doing any really damage to his target he lost his balance and ended up on the floor. Rolling over onto his back Neal brought his hands up to defend himself only to find Peter looking down on him in concern. Realizing his mistake Neal slurred something that he hoped sounded like an apology before finally passing out.

The darkness that Neal fell into wasn't absolute, it was punctuated with flashes of violence both remembered and imagined in a chaotic jumble. Trying to wake up was like trying to claw his way up from the depths of a cold and viscous lake that kept dragging him back down every time he felt like he was about to break the surface. When he did finally manage to tear away from his nightmares he found himself shivering against a cold sweat that soaked his skin. His head didn't hurt nearly as much as he expected it to, if anything he felt almost numb. Confused he tried to take stock in his situation, but found he couldn't seem to open his eyes. At first he thought the gentle swaying motion was just an illusion of the alcohol but he quickly figured out that it was the rise and fall of Peter's chest that he was leaning his back against.

Trying to sit up Neal discovered his muscles weren't particularly interested in taking orders as he struggled briefly before relaxing again. Fighting the urge to just go back to sleep Neal managed to force his eyes open only to discover that his eyes had already been open he was simply blinded. Reaching up he clumsily tried to remove the tie that was helping keep him in darkness. When he failed Peter helped him causing a sudden flood of harsh light. Still groggy he blinked against the light's disorienting effect, it had only been a few days but Neal was already sorely missing having a normal circadian rhythm.

"How long have I been out?" Neal groaned.

"A few hours."

The hollow tone Peter's weary voice opened a sickening pit in Neal's stomach. Concerned Neal worked a little harder this time to sit up and with a little help from Peter he was able to succeed. Sitting up on his own Neal turned to look at his friend. Looking like he had pushed himself well beyond the point of exhaustion Peter forced a tight lipped smile that didn't light up his eyes the way a natural smile would have. Neal took a breath to say something but he was stopped when suddenly felt like his blood had some how suddenly become heavy. Swallowing hard Neal shook his head slightly which just made everything worse.

"Neal?"

"Ugh…I'm still drunk." Neal complained as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"At least you aren't seizing anymore." Peter said with a quiet anxious edge.

"Seizing?"

"It's been a rough few hours." Peter admitted.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault."

"No, it's Jake's." Neal growled darkly. "I hate him. I don't even fear him anymore, I just hate him…which is exactly what he wants. He's a lot smarter tha…"

Neal stopped as he tilted his head back slightly and instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea washed over him, leaning forward he battled to keep from passing out again. Breathing through the spell he managed to stay awake even if he still couldn't focus very well. Pulling his knees up to his chest he folded his arm on top of them and rested his chin on them. Staring sightlessly at the floor he zoned out for a moment, exhausted despite spending the past few hours unconscious. Waking up still intoxicated was worse than coming to with hangover not only because he knew that pain was still to come but also because it was jumbling his thoughts and stealing his ability to cope. Closing his eyes Neal fought hard against tears that suddenly stung at him as the residual alcohol swung his mood.

Tired and dizzy but also too agitated to try to lay back down Neal wasn't sure what to do with himself. It took him a few more minutes to notice that Peter was having a very similar issue. Sitting perfectly still with a visible tension pulling at his muscles Peter was silently watching Neal with a look of deep concern reflecting in his dark eyes. Neal's skin chilled as he realized the horrifying thought that must be going through Peter's mind.

"I'm fine, Peter. Nothing happened, at least nothing…extreme." Neal answered the unasked question. "Jake just liquored me up and pushed me around a little bit."

"Neal, you don't ha…"

"No, no, no, don't do that, Peter. Don't take that tone. Don't make Jake any more right than he's already been about us." Neal rambled angrily as his mood violently shifted out of his control once again. "He said you'd do this to me, he told me you wouldn't believe me, he said you'd write me off as a liar."

"I'm not writing you off, Neal." Peter said carefully.

"But you don't believe me."

"I believe you."

Neal didn't feel like Peter meant his words. He pulled his eyes away from Peter as he found himself hating the pity in Peter's expression, he despised how easily Jake had made him appear far more victimized than he had been and worse that Peter was basically trusting Jake's word over his own. Not that he fully blamed him since he probably would have lied to him if something more had happened. Tired, in pain, and still fighting the alcohol Neal didn't want to argue. However it wasn't difficult for Peter to pick up on his silent resentful anger as Neal stared at the floor.

"Neal," Peter said softly "Neal, please, look at me."

Feeling petulant Neal didn't react to the request at first. Leaning forward with a quick low hiss of pain Peter reached out and put his hand on Neal's arm and managed to get the eye contact he had requested. He had lost the degrading sympathetic look in his eyes and replaced it with one that conveyed a mutual defiance of a common foe. Neal lost his previous brush with anger as he appreciated the fact that even if Peter still had suspicions he was doing a good job of silently taking his side.

"I believe you." Peter repeated with genuine sincerity.

"Thank you." Neal managed a forgiving smile.

A true smile touched Peter's expression for a moment as well as he relaxed and then nearly passed out himself. With the tension from Neal's encounter with Jake over for the moment Peter was suddenly fading quickly as fatigue started to win out over fear. Having completely lost track of time Neal had no idea when the last time Peter had gotten some sleep was. It didn't even really matter exactly how many hours it had been, from the way he was starting to pant for breath it had clearly been too many while under too much strain.

Peter shook his head violently and forced his eyes open wide in an attempt to stave off the inevitable. Neal reached out and tugged on Peter's shoulder to encourage him to lay down. Neal was a little surprised when Peter didn't protest, demonstrating just how far past his usual endurance he had forced himself. Neal shifted so that he could offer his lap as a pillow. Pressing his back against the wall Peter laid on his side resting his head on Neal's leg. Taking a deep breath Peter sighed heavily, but didn't fall asleep immediately the way Neal had expected him to. Neal rested his hand on Peter's arm to help him settle down.

"Wake me when the subway slows down again. I need to be ready when Jake comes back."

"I don't want you giving into Jake and fighting harder just so that I don't have to."

"I have to keep you safe." Peter whispered almost incoherently as sleep started to steal him away.

"Peter, I'm not your responsibility."

"Yes you are, and I'm not letting Jake take that away from me."

"'That' or 'me'?"

"Both."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"Last night's round was certainly a crowd pleaser." York praised. "How's Burke this morning?"

"Fairly concussed, but he'll live…for now."

"He fought hard, I actually found myself a little disappointed that he lost in the end."

"Burke really should have won, he and Tanner were fairly equally matched size and fitness wise but Burke clearly had more skill and drive. It was just that luckily shot near the end that gave Tanner the upper hand."

"The match up itself wasn't as impressive as Burke's willingness to go on the offensive instead of sticking to the reluctant defensive the way he did with Campbell. How did you get him to fight like that?"

"I have my ways." Jake replied vaguely.

"Does your technique have something to do with the fact that Caffrey didn't fight last night, and only spent seven minutes in the ring the first time?"

"I may have gone a little far with Caffrey before the fight on both occasions to motivate Burke." Jake admitted with a guilty smile. "I figured most of this crowd would be more interested in a good round out of the Fed than his rat anyway."

"I assume you made some sort of deal with Burke to keep Caffrey out of the ring, but I'm a little surprised that you backed down and still pulled Caffrey out of the fight after Burke lost. That's not like you."

"I didn't tell Burke he had to win," Jake explained "I told him he had to put on a good show."

"He certainly did that."

"He knew the stakes. Caffrey could barely walk let alone fight after I was through with him."

"You are one sadistic son of bitch." York chuckled. "Of course that's what I love about you, and why you've lasted as long as you have. However I can't have you shielding Caffrey from the ring forever even if you are using him as your bait/personal play thing."

"I won't." Jake promised. "He just needs more time to toughen up a bit."

"I have no doubt of that." York agreed. "However, I want him in the next match, and I want him to win. No one will bet on him after seeing his last performance, it will be easy money. Put him up against someone half dead if you have to, but make it look good."

"Don't worry, Burke and I will teach him to fight and once we do…"

"'We'?" York questioned mockingly with a raised eyebrow. "Jake, you're not trying to make friends are you?"

"Why don't you ask Caffrey if he thinks I'm trying to make friends with him? I bet he'd spit in your face until he dehydrated and died."

"I'm not saying you're any good at it, I know how your temper keeps you from playing well with others. I'm just saying you seem more invested than usual."

"I'm just following your instruction." Jake said defensively. "You said you wanted fights people would pay money to see and if at all possible for these two to live at least a few weeks if not months. If Caffrey dies Burke won't be far behind and vice versa. Any idiot can force two men into a ring to fight or lock someone in a room to starve, you keep me around to make sure your victims truly suffer and I always deliver."

"I do keep you around, don't I?" York mused. "You have proven yourself remarkably loyal, Jake, not to mention talented."

"Thank you, Sir."

Jake didn't often hear praise from York and getting it now helped him gather up some courage to enter into a conversation that had never gone well for him in the past but that he had to risk bringing up again. Before speaking Jake glanced over his shoulder at the two muscular guards York had brought along with him that were standing by the closed door. He wished that they would at least stand outside, but York never met with him without an audience. Deciding to ignore them Jake turned his attention back to York with his heart suddenly racing. Dressed in a bespoke suit York was casually perched on the edge of the same table that Jake had pinned Neal to with one foot up on the wooden chair. With their brief meeting over York put his foot down and leaned forward slightly to stand. Knowing he was about to lose his chance Jake broke the short silence that had fallen over the room.

"Mr. York, I…" Jake hesitated. "I was wondering if…"

"Jake," York growled darkly "you already know my answer."

"I know, but…"

"I see you've been having trouble with Sawyer lately." York interrupted in a dangerous tone. "Can't seem to keep that boy out of the Labyrinth."

"He has a personal grudge against Burke." Jake said trying to figure out how to best steer the conversation back to his request. "Don't worry, I'm dealing with him."

"Are you really?" York asked doubtfully. "If you were doing your job right he wouldn't want anything to do with the Labyrinth let alone *volunteer* to stay down here."

"I don't have the same kind of power over him as I do with the branded."

"From what I've heard you barely have any power over Sawyer at all. Your leash on him is thread thin."

"I keep him in check."

"You might want to work a little harder on that. Sawyer has been asking about your job and I've been listening."

"Wha…what?" Jake asked shocked. "But he's not…qualified."

"That could change soon, he's almost as crazy as you are. You might just have some healthy competition there."

"No!"

Jake regretted barking at York the second he had done it, but it was too late. York narrowed his eyes at Jake and that was all the signal York's guards needed to attack. Jake cried out like a kicked dog as one of the men struck the back of his thigh with his metal baton that they had taken away from him before the meeting. Dropping to one knee he arched back as the other man pressed the taser that they had also taken between his shoulder blades. Unlike Neal Jake didn't even try to keep quiet as pain lanced through his back knowing that York wanted to hear him scream. He couldn't win against the two armed men, he could only buy himself clemency through York. Doing his best to protect himself without actually fighting back York curled up on the floor and hid his head in his arms. He continued to yelp as he received multiple painful blows to the back and shins as the guards kicked at him. Jake was starting to sustain some real injury when York finally stepped forward.

"I think that's enough." York announced calmly.

The guards listened to their boss and took a step back from Jake, although they kept close in case Jake decided to attack. Acting more wounded than he was Jake desperately scrambled away from the men and pressed himself into the corner to not only offer himself some protection in case they started beating him again, but also to demonstrate to York that he was sorry. Playing his part to the fullest Jake faked a fearful trembling to add to the effect. Buttoning his sports jacket closed York walked up to Jake and looked down on him with a hint of pity.

"I've grown fond of you, Jake." York said honestly. "But that doesn't change the simple fact that you are replaceable, particularly if you start thinking you can talk back to me. Understood?"

Cowering submissively in the corner Jake nodded.

"Good. Now then, if you'll excuse me," York said in a cheerful tone "I have to go talk with the widow Burke."

Jake furrowed his brow at the idea of York visiting the Agent's wife not understanding why he would take such a risk or what he could possibly gain from it. Not about to question York's motives right now Jake just stayed in the corner keeping his eyes downcast to avoid accidentally looking up at York with anything that might be mistaken for disrespect. Satisfied that Jake had been firmly reminded of his place York turned towards the door.

The guard with his taser simply tossed it on the floor to allow him to quickly get to the door and open it for York. Jake flinched as the other guard stepped up and spat at him before dropping the metal baton and leaving with York. Breathing heavily after the close call Jake closed his eyes and pressed himself a little harder into the concrete corner to try and stop the shaking that he had original told himself he was faking.

Humiliated by the beating Jake's pride was far more damaged than his body. Getting to his feet he ground his teeth in frustration and rage as he thought more about the insulting encounter. When his blood continued to heat to the point of boil he gathered up his weapons and stalked out of the room. Snarling profanities at York he made his way purposefully down the hall towards a locked door. It took him a few tries to get the key in the lock with his hands still quaking but now out of anger rather than fear.

Throwing the door open Jake stepped inside and locked it behind himself. The inhabitant of the room was a painfully thin heavily abused man a few years younger than Neal who had curled himself up in the far corner just as Jake had been when he'd heard the key grinding against the lock. His filthy white t-shirt and stained khaki pants hung loose against his diminished frame. His pale skin, along with his sandy blonde hair and nearly colorless hollow blue eyes gave him the sickly look of a plant that had been kept out of the sun for too long.

"Get up, Miller!" Jake demanded.

"Jake, wait…"

"Get your ass over here and fight me!" Jake barked.

"What? No, plea…"

Baring his teeth at Miller Jake rushed over to the terrified captive. Miller had survived his fair share of turns in the ring but lately had reached a point where he was losing so often that he was barely worth bothering with. Jake reached down and grabbed Miller's wrist causing him to cry out as Jake ground the delicate bones together. Jake hauled Miller to his feet and dragged him out into the middle of the room before punching him in the face hard enough to send him crashing to the floor. Disoriented on his back Miller reached up and tried pointlessly to stanch the blood that poured from his now broken nose. Jake had been looking for a fight to work out some of his aggression but Miller wasn't in any condition to offer one. Although he didn't get the resistance he was hoping for he was feeling better now that he was back in control. Enjoying the power Jake straddled Miller and sat down heavily on his stomach.

"Please, Jake, stop!"

Miller thrashed with a surprising amount of strength and he tried to push Jake off knowing his life was on the line. Striking Miller in the face again with a significant amount of rage and force Jake soaked his fist in blood that sprayed across his face. Dazed Miller stopped struggling as he sputtered up blood between gasps for breath as he started to drown. Grabbing the collar of Miller's shirt Jake tore it open to reveal a deep purple scar of a healed but still relatively fresh maze shaped brand.

"What does this mean?" Jake spat.

"Jake, pl..please, I…" Miller whimpered weakly as he started to fade.

"What does it mean?!" Jake demanded again as he dug his fingers into the flesh around the mark. "What did York tell you when you crossed him enough to force him into branding this on you?!"

Unable to speak Miller convulsed as his eyes rolled back.

"No forgiveness!" Jake answered for him. "No forgiveness, no escape, no mercy, no exceptions!"

Jake punctuated each of the caveats with a powerful blow to Miller's face. Already on the edge Miller had lost consciousness after the first strike, and by the time Jake had landed the fourth one Miller's chest sank under Jake's weight as death freed him. Jake stared down at his victim at first with the rush of murder washing away the pain of his previous humiliation, but then just as quickly as he'd found relief a new weight crushed down on him with the horror of having taken another life.

Getting shakily to his feet Jake stared at Miller's motionless corpse as he backed up until he bumped into the locked door. Sliding down the door until he was sitting down Jake pulled his knees up to his chest. He held up his hands and looked at the blood on them with a nauseated expression as if it was the first time he'd ever seen gore. Looking around the gray concrete walls that surrounded him Jake suddenly broke down into tears. Crossing his blood stained arms on his knees Jake buried his face in them to hide his bitter weeping.

By the time Jake pulled himself together Miller had grown cold in the puddle of thick congealing blood. Jake slowly got his feet and looked down at Miller with no trace of his previous remorse. He had rationalized that it had been York who had condemned Miller to death down here, and that he was no more guilty of the murder than a gun was. Finding himself somewhat at peace again, or as close as he ever came to it, he reached up to dry his tear reddened eyes with his hand only to smear blood across his face.

Jake sighed in annoyance before he stepped around Miller's body and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off his shirt Jake revealed several long diagonal scars that marred his back along with a mix of other battle born marks. Removing the rest of his clothes he dropped them on the floor of Miller's bathroom. Turning the shower on Jake closed his eyes and stepped under the spray to wash the blood and the stress of the day away. Tilting his head back Jake let the water strike his face and throat. The water ran down onto his chest and over the hexagon maze scar emblazoned on over his heart, faded to white by time but just as damning as the day it had been seared into his flesh.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

"Please, Peter, don't leave me alone down here."

Holding Peter closer to his chest with one arm Neal reached up and brushed the back of his other hand against Peter's bruised cheek gently without getting a response. Neal was undecided if he should try harder to wake his friend or not. Peter's breathing was not the soothing rhythmic motion of someone sleeping peacefully. Instead his staggered breath hissed his across his teeth sporadically with alarming pauses and changes in both depth and pace with the occasional growl or whimper. Deciding that Peter was better off sleeping even if it wasn't peaceful Neal rested his chin on top of Peter's head and closed his own eyes momentarily.

After getting knocked out in the ring Peter had regained consciousness fairly quickly and although disoriented he did make it back down to their room mostly under his own power. However once he was out of the danger of the ring Peter had promptly passed out and hadn't woken since. Neal wasn't sure how long Peter had been out since he had fallen asleep himself fairly quickly after the gruesome fight. As much as Neal had wanted to stay on guard for Peter he couldn't stop exhaustion from claiming him. He had been awake for a few hours now though and Peter had shown no signs of waking and Neal was becoming increasingly concerned about the effects of his obvious concussion.

Having been battling the worst of his hangover during Peter's match Neal had used all his strength just to focus and offer Peter what little emotional support he could from the sidelines. The light and noise of the crowd enthusiastically watching the bloody fight had been a painful cacophony that had magnified Neal's already pounding headache. As much as he didn't want Peter putting on a show to satisfy Jake's terms Neal had known that he wouldn't have survive a minute in the ring in his condition. Far from faking a desire to fight the passionately aggressive way Peter had rushed at his opponent gave Neal the impression that rather than just submitting to Jake Peter had more been taken his frustration and fear of him out on Tanner.

Having turned his thoughts towards Jake and the fact that he'd kept his promise despite Peter not technically wining the fight Neal was snapped back to the present by footsteps approaching. With his heart racing painfully Neal held his breath and prayed that thinking about the devil hadn't actually made him appear and that perhaps it was some other lost soul wandering the halls. Neal's hopes were quickly shattered when he heard the key grating in the lock.

Neal pushed urgently at Peter's shoulder but he still remained locked in sleep. Not wanting to be pinned down by Peter's weight when Jake entered the room Neal carefully moved to lay him down and hurried to his feet to stand over him. Neal had no hope of actually defending Peter against Jake but that didn't keep him from trying. With his bare feet held in a wide stance Neal pulled his still painful shoulders back causing some blood to trickle down from one of the larger glass cuts.

Jake opened the door and stepped inside before closing it after himself and locking it. His messily cut hair was wet and his clothing clung to him like he'd just taken a shower but hadn't really bothered to dry off before crawling back into his clothes. It hadn't lasted long but when Jake had first entered the room Neal could have sworn he'd had an anxious expression clouding his dark eyes. Spotting Neal in the defensive pose a genuine looking smile brightened Jake's face as he put one hand on his hip and he leaned his weight into it casually.

"Look at you," Jake chuckled "all ready for a fight rather than cowering in the corner hoping for mercy through pity. Standing your ground is a good look for you, Caffrey, you should do it more often."

Neal didn't respond to Jake's mock praising tone he just kept a wary eye on him. Keeping his muscles tight Neal found himself almost hoping that Jake came closer. His logical side told him he'd quickly end up beaten bloody if he tangled with Jake, but his emotional side still wanted to at least try and inflict some pain on his tormentor even if it came at a high personal cost. Jake seemed like he was contemplating accepting Neal's unspoken challenge for a moment before he turned his attention to Peter with a look of concern.

"Is Burke just a heavy sleeper or is he actually unresponsive?"

"What do you care?"

"I don't really," Jake shrugged "just a bit of morbid curiosity."

"Leave us alone." Neal growled.

Jake looked Neal over again. It was starting to become clear to Neal that Jake hadn't come in here with any real plan in mind. The other times he had some sort of torment or mission to execute, this time he didn't look like he knew what he wanted. Glancing back to Peter Jake pulled his hands through his wet hair before turning his attention back to Neal with a mischievous smile.

"I'll tell you what, come over here and hit me with even a moderate amount of force and I'll go away."

"What?"

"I won't even defend myself." Jake put his hands out to either side. "Free shot."

"You're insane."

"Duh." Jake rolled his eyes. "Come on, neither one of us has anything better to do. Let's do this."

"Why don't you have anything better to do?" Neal asked seriously. "Do you live down here? You always seem to be ar…"

"Is this how you've avoided learning to fight? By just talking and psychoanalyzing your opponents to death?" Jake complained. "This isn't an opportunity I give just anyone."

"So why are you giving it to me?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Now get over here and hit me before I come over there and beat you as senseless as your partner."

Unsure of what he should do Neal stayed rooted to his spot in front of Peter. He was angry enough to want to step up and lash out at Jake, but Neal also knew that was exactly what Jake wanted as part of his ongoing efforts to make him a better fighter for the ring. Beyond not wanting to play into Jake's hands Neal also didn't trust this so called 'free shot'. There was no way Jake would passively allow him to hurt him without retaliating afterward. However just standing idle until Jake lost his temper and attacked wasn't a good solution either.

"Well?" Jake asked expectantly.

"Fine." Neal agreed in resignation. "If it will make you leave us alone."

"Impress me with your best shot and I'll give you two twenty-four full hours to lick each others wounds in peace."

Grinding his teeth in frustration that he once again had to follow Jake's sadistic rules Neal stalked over to him. Remembering Peter's advice about going for body shots rather than the face Neal targeted the spot just over the liver that Peter had suggested. Even with all his anger Neal felt awkward about just walking up to Jake and throwing a punch at him. Jake stared him down unblinkingly with a crazed intensity in his eyes making Neal even more hesitant to strike him fearing he would just go into a blind rage in return. Jake was more than powerful enough to beat him to death and Neal believed he was also crazy enough to get lost in a moment of anger and do it even if it wasn't his original intent to kill. Hoping to hit Jake hard enough to satisfy him but not to the point of triggering his animal side Neal struck him just below the ribs. Jake absorbed the blow easily and narrowed his eyes at Neal in open disgust.

"Pathetic. You're stronger than that." Jake spat angrily. "Try again and do better or I'm going to go over and taze Burke until he either wakes up screaming or his heart stops, whichever comes first."

Neal had gambled on Jake preferring to not be humiliated by a truly painful blow, but he had miscalculated. Jake's anger at being pandered to was palpable and making him more dangerous by the second. With no doubt that Jake would make good on his promise Neal lashed out again this time with all his strength. This time Jake grunted in pain and had to brace himself by taking one step back, however he almost instantly recovered. Neal hadn't been expecting to drop Jake with the single blow but he had thought he'd at least knock him slightly breathless for a moment.

"Much better." Jake said with a nod. "Now take a deep breath and hold it."

"Ja…"

Neal paid the price for trying to reason with Jake rather than just following the instructions as Jake interrupted him with a lighting quick punch to the diaphragm. Knocked breathless at a point when he hadn't had his lungs full to start with Neal was doubled over with a sputtering cough that was difficult to recover from as he choked and gasped. Jake waited patiently for Neal to catch his breath and straighten back out. Swallowing hard Neal forced his shocked system to calm and stood back up to face Jake. He didn't take another swing at Jake knowing he would invite a fight and ultimately just humiliate him again, but he didn't back down either.

"If you had done what I had told you to do that would have barely hurt." Jake said matter-of-factly. "If you can get a breath and hold your core tight just before a blow you can withstand a good deal of force with minimal effect."

"You said you'd leave us alone." Neal hissed. "Go find something better to do."

Neal wasn't sure why he had added the insulting order and fully expected Jake to snap into one of his temperamental fits over it. In preparation for a painful retaliation Neal found himself automatically following Jake's advice as he held his breath with his abdominal muscles pulled taunt to help protect the nerve bundles and organs that lay beneath. Jake noticed that Neal was ready for an attack causing him to actually take a step back with his hands held up slightly in mock surrender. Neal growled in frustration as he realized that Jake had just taught him something.

"You're right, I did say that and I'm nothing if not a man of my word. One thing you can always count on with me it's that my word is my bond."

"You're kidding right?"

"Name one promise to you that I haven't kept."

Neal didn't have an immediate answer, so far Jake had done everything he said he would.

"See? You can trust me." Jake smiled. "You can trust me to keep my promises and just as importantly you can trust me to make good on my threats. That being said I'm going to make another deal with you. Your next fight is in three days, win that fight and Burke doesn't have to fight his round. Deal?"

Neal couldn't bring himself to verbally agree to Jake's calculated manipulation but he nodded his understanding. He hadn't wanted Peter fighting harder just to spare him but now faced with the same opportunity he wasn't about to pass it up. Jake accepted Neal's silent agreement with a warm smile.

"Burke fights like an animal for you, it's going to be fascinating to see if you're willing to do the same for him."

"There is a difference between willing and able."

"If you are truly willing to kill for someone there's very little that can stop you from finding a way to be able to do it."

"You didn't say I had to kill you just said I had to win."

"For now you just have to win, but eventually there is someone you're going to have to kill if you want to save Burke."

"Sawyer…"

"I can't keep him at bay forever, but I can arrange that you get a chance to fight him before Burke has to if you want me to."

"What?"

"No one can take him down while his surrounded by his friends, but in the ring he's at least somewhat vulnerable. But understand before you agree to fight him that you'll have to do more than just win against him to keep him away from Burke. If you don't kill him he'll kill you."

"I would have less of a chance against Sawyer than Peter."

"Don't worry about that right now. Sawyer is oddly patient and tenacious. I can give you some time to train body and mind, a month maybe two."

"Two months?" Neal repeated in horror at the thought of this nightmare lasting beyond the point of being measured in weeks. "I can't…"

"Spend that time getting some skill and more importantly deciding how far you're willing to go to protect your friend."

"Jake…"

"If you find yourself honestly willing to kill Sawyer, I'll make sure that you're able to."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs to everyone who has been supporting this story. It means a lot to me. Huggles!

Chapter Eighteen

"Have a good day, Hon."

Locked in a dream that was more of a warped memory than pure fantasy Peter leaned down and kissed his wife's cheek undisturbed by the salty taste. Sitting at the kitchen table Elizabeth cried quietly to herself in an exhausted heartbreaking whimper. In the logical that only exists in dreams Peter was unconcerned by her continual tears and acted as if there was nothing about that morning that marked it as any different than any other. In reality the morning that he and Neal had ended up kidnapped and been wholly unremarkable. Looking back Peter felt there should have been some sort of feeling that he was seeing the love of his life for what might be the last time and that he should have said or done something more, but the thought had never occurred to him that morning. His dream verged from reality further as he glanced at his shoulder harness and weapon that was draped over the near by chair. Peter furrowed his brow before he unceremoniously left the crucial piece of his defense behind.

With Elizabeth still weeping in the background Peter headed for the front door. Opening the door Peter found Neal waiting for him on the front step. His immaculately tailored suit clashed starkly with the heavy amount of blood that marred the side of his face along with the deep bruising under his eye that ran up and across the bridge of his nose. His knuckles were cut and bruised as though he'd been punching a brick wall and the cuffs of his shirt were dyed a bright red as well. Acting natural Neal slipped his bloodied hands into his pockets and smile brightly causing blood to slip from his lips down his chin.

"Ready to go?" Neal asked cheerfully.

"Not really." Peter admitted.

"Too bad." Neal chuckled. "Come on, it's going to be a hell of fight."

"What if I can't win?"

"I'm not worried." Neal pushed himself up on his tip toes to kiss Peter's forehead, tipping back on his heels he trailed a string of bloody saliva as he smiled confidently. "You've never let me down before."

"I've never let Elizabeth down before either…" Finally realizing something was wrong Peter looked over his shoulder to where Elizabeth was still sitting at the table in misery. "…now look at her."

"She'll be fine." Neal shrugged.

"Really?"

"No." Neal snarled with his blue eyes suddenly burning with an icy hatred that Peter had never seen from him before. "She's never going to forgive you for disappearing on her and as time passes she will grow to resent you for it and then she will hate herself for hating you."

"No, please..."

Peter snapped out of his nightmare only to recall that his reality wasn't all that dissimilar. He didn't believe that Elizabeth would ever hate him for not coming home, but it would certainly leave her with the kind of pain that time didn't easily heal. Determined to not give up on getting home Peter worked on trying to sit up. If a fight was what it was going to take to live another day he was going to give it to them. Having woken to a confusing haze of pain Peter blindly battled to sit up fearing that Jake would be arriving at any moment and not wanting to look weak when he did. Peter jerked violently when Neal put his hand on his chest to keep him down and the room suddenly felt like it was spinning underneath him.

"Easy, Peter," Neal said gently "stay still."

"No." Peter hissed stubbornly.

Rolling onto his side Peter panted heavily against a wave of nausea. Without any real plan Peter just started pushing against the floor in a vain attempt to get upright. Neal let him struggle for a moment before trying to guide him to lay back down. With a flash of anger Peter clumsily tried to bat Neal's hand away.

"Peter, please you're going to hurt yourself."

"I have to get up…I have to win this fight for you, Jake's going to be here any minute. I can't let him make you fight if I have a chance to stop it…"

"Peter, that fight already happened."

"What?" Peter asked confused.

"You don't remember?" Neal asked concerned.

Finally forcing himself up Peter sat with his back leaned against the wall and took a few heavy breaths. The edges of his vision turned red for a moment as his splitting headache threatened to steal his consciousness again. Once he was sure he wasn't going to pass out Peter took a moment to try and piece through his broken memory but attempting to concentrate just caused his head to pound harder. He had a vague sense of noise, violence, and pain, but nothing solid. Neal watched him with a worried expression.

"Peter?"

"No. I don't remember."

"He hit you pretty hard." Neal said sympathetically.

"Jake?"

"No. Tanner, the guy you were fighting."

"I didn't win." Peter sighed heavily. "Neal I'm so sorry. How did you…"

"Jake didn't make me fight." Neal assured. "He said you put on a good show and that's all that mattered to him. He kept his word."

"He didn't keep his word, he just changed the rules to suit him." Peter said darkly. "Jake didn't want you to fight last night from the start. He liquored you up to give an excuse to keep you out of the ring in the first place. He tried to save you from your first fight as well. I think...I think he likes you."

"Likes me?" Neal repeated doubtfully. "He goes out of his way to torture me."

"I teased the first girl I ever had a crush on mercilessly because I didn't know how else to deal with my emotions."

"You were probably six years old at the time, Jake is a grown man."

"Physically he is, but he shows all the temper of a child. The second he doesn't get his way he turns violent. I think Jake has been torturing people without regret for a very long time. Now for whatever reason some part of him suddenly feels a trace of sympathy or possibly even empathy for you. Maybe you remind him of someone or even himself. He wants to help you, he just doesn't know what to do with that desire."

"He could just contact the FBI." Neal said bitterly.

"Maybe he will if you can convince him that yo…"

"I'm not making friends with Jake." Neal interrupted sharply.

"I'm not asking you to, I'm suggesting you con him into believing you are."

"He's too insane to con." Neal snarled getting angrier. "Or too smart, something...I don't know. I can't figure him out. Every time I go up against him I end up doing exactly what he wants."

"Neal..."

"It would have to be a 'long con'," Neal sighed as he suddenly gave into the idea "there is no way he won't smell a trap from a mile away if I suddenly start acting chummy with him."

"I don't think we're going anywhere any time soon."

Peter regretted his last words the moment he said them, not just because of their effect on Neal's morale but his own as well. It was impossible not to think that if the FBI was going to find them they would have by now. Time was difficult to keep track of but it had to be at least a week since their capture. At the mention that rescue wasn't in sight Neal had instantly lost the anger in his eyes that he'd had while they'd been talking about Jake, replaced by an unfocused look as he seemed to retreat inward into darker thoughts than just simple hatred. Peter looked around the room trying to figure just how long he'd been out and starting to fear that it had been long enough for another visit from Jake.

"Neal? What's wrong?"

"Besides the obvious?" Neal asked with a forced smile.

"Besides the obvious." Peter confirmed.

"Do you think…" Neal hesitated. "Do you think I could kill someone?"

"Not without it fundamentally changing who you are." Peter admitted. "But don't worry about that right now, if the time comes that you have to defend yourself with lethal force we'll work through the aftermath together. Okay?"

Neal nodded but remained heavily pensive. Peter didn't want to say it out loud and cast further fear in Neal's mind but he did have his doubts about not just Neal's physical ability to kill but his emotional capability as well. Neal had a natural aversion to violence that Peter had long admired as one of his best traits. Peter would have never even considered the CI agreement if Neal hadn't proven time and time again that he may be criminal but he wasn't dangerous. However the line between life and death in their current situation was razor thin and a second's worth of hesitation to let go of a life long moral stand could make all the difference in survival.

Peter wanted to suggest that he start teaching Neal some of the skills he was going to need to even be able to attempt to truly defend himself, but at the moment his post concussive state was making even the thought of sparing with Neal painful. Just focusing enough to talk with him was becoming increasingly difficult as his headache took up more and more of his attention. Neal's own reflective thoughts started to translate into a nervous energy as he started to shift his weight and rub at his injured wrists.

"Neal?"

"I can't just sit here." Neal said restlessly as he got to his feet. "Federal Prison couldn't hold me I can't imagine this place is really that much better thought out. There has to be a weak point somewhere and I'm going to find it."

"Please don't get lost."

"Really?" Neal managed a smile. "I was expecting to have to fight you over this plan."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. You can easily out run Sawyer if you cross paths with him and you'll have a better chance at stealth if you're on your own. Not to mention that if anyone can find a way out it's you."

"Those were going to be my argument points exactly."

"Then there is no sense in arguing."

"We argue senselessly all the time, why should now be any different?" Neal teased.

"Desperate times, remember?" Peter smiled. "Be careful out there."

"I will." Neal nodded. "I won't be gone long, I promise. I'll just start with a quick reconnaissance."

"Don't risk coming back here if you find a way out, just go, get help."

"I can't leave you down here. We'll get out together if I find a way."

"No. There are cameras everywhere, if you find a chink in their armour you can't give them the chance to fix it. There is no room for error down here. Your first chance could be the only one we get."

"Peter…"

"Neal, promise me that if you find a way out you'll take it."

"…I promise."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: There might be a bit of a wait for the next chapter due to the Christmas Season. Not sure how busy I'm going to be. Hugs!

Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth stood in the kitchen with the cabinet open staring at the five different blends of tea up on the shelf. She had been trying to chose between the options for several minutes. There wasn't any significant difference between the teas but she still couldn't seem to take action on choosing one of them. The tea was really just a symptom of a greater difficulty that she was having with both decision making and her concentration, both of which had suffered greatly lately under the constant stress of Peter and Neal's sudden disappearance. Giving up on the task all together Elizabeth turned her attention to the single brand of coffee for the sheer simplicity of it.

Taking the coffee over to the machine she found a small amount of comfort in the familiar task that she could perform without any real thought now that she had initiated it. With the coffee running she looked around, lost again as to the next step since she wasn't hungry but knew she had to try to prepare something. It felt surreal to be attempting a morning routine as if everything was normal when it was as far from normal as her life had ever strayed. She had been told by the FBI psychologist that Hughes had sent to visit her that establishing a routine during this time was an important part of coping with the stress. In reality it was making her feel guilty for trifling with unimportant things like coffee when Peter might be fighting for his life right at this very moment.

Taking a deep breath Elizabeth worked to focus on her task. As much as her mind wanted to wandet to the possibilities of Peter and Neal's fate she knew it wasn't helpful, not for them and not for her. Walking back over to one of the cabinets she took down two coffee mugs. Mozzie was currently taking a shower upstairs and although he wasn't much of a coffee drinker she knew he would take a cup to be polite. He had been working just as tireless as the FBI to try and find a lead on his missing friends, unfortunately with just as little success. He had for all intensive purposes moved in from the start, sleeping on her couch without either one of them having actually talked about the arrangement, it had seemed like just a matter of course to them both that he would stay with her until Peter and Neal were home.

Even as the hours had turned into days Mozzie's faith in them being found safe and sound had never wavered. It was an attitude Elizabeth very much appreciated because even though no one at the FBI said anything to the effect she could see in their eyes that they knew her husband's chances at being found had slipped down below ten percent after the one week mark had come and gone. They were trying to stay positive, but experience was telling them that the worst had already happened. The FBI was still actively devoting a heavy amount of resources to finding their missing Agent and his CI, but without any new evidence there was only so much they could do and eventually they would have to shift their focus to more pressing issues. The FBI couldn't grind to a halt every time they lost an Agent.

Distracted from the moment once again by dark thoughts one of the coffee mugs slipped from her grasp and dashed against the tile floor in a spray of broken ceramic. Looking down at the ruined cup Elizabeth's eyes instantly brightened with tears. Not wanting to be set off emotionally by such a simple set back Elizabeth brought her hand up over her mouth and fought to keep her composure. Satchmo stepped tentatively into the kitchen to investigate the noise.

"Satchmo, no." Elizabeth said more firmly than she had intended.

Looking chastised Satchmo lowered his head and backed out of the kitchen. Having picked up on Elizabeth's distress since she'd first come home Satchmo had been searching the house constantly for Peter in hopes that he could somehow make it right and whining occupationally at his failure to find his missing pack leader. Elizabeth had only been concerned that he might cut his paw she hadn't meant to make the dog think he'd done something wrong.

Already on the edge of tears having Satchmo slink away with his tail between his legs was more than she could take. Leaning back slightly against the counter top for support Elizabeth broke down into earnest tears. Coming downstairs Mozzie was quickly on the scene. He didn't say anything about the broken mug, he just stepped around it and guided Elizabeth out of the kitchen and into the living room. Encouraging her to sit down on the couch he offered her the box of tissues that was on the coffee table before sitting down next to her.

"Thank you."

"Any time."

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth whispered.

"It's okay." Mozzie said sympathetically.

"I need to handle this better." Elizabeth said drying her tears. "Peter wouldn't want me to cry."

"No, but he'd understand."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded in agreement. Seeking forgiveness Satchmo stepped over tentatively and placed his head gently in her lap. Elizabeth reached down and pet between the Labrador's soft ears causing him to wag the tip of his tail happily. She appreciated having the loyal dog with her and had even been letting him up on the bed at night so that she didn't have to sleep alone. She had often teased Peter of being a bit of a bed hog and invading her side of the bed, but in truth she had never minded him wanting to sleep to her.

"Good boy." Elizabeth praised.

Satchmo wagged harder in response.

"There is nothing quite as unconditional as a dog's love." Mozzie smiled warmly.

"I haven't taken him for a walk since this all started."

"A walk might be good for you both."

Elizabeth nodded. She hadn't been out of the house much in the past few days. She knew she was only underfoot at the FBI and Yvonne was handling the event business for the time being. She wanted to do something to try and help find Peter and Neal but she wasn't sure where to even start. As much as she wanted to go along with Mozzie she didn't exactly blend into the criminal underground that he had been sniffing around. The feeling of being useless in the hunt was becoming increasingly frustrating as time passed.

"Elizabeth, you know I'll share anything I find with you, right?" Mozzie asked reading her sudden silence perfectly.

"Thank you. Hughes knows that he shouldn't but he's been sharing the case details with me as well…I think mostly because he knows I'll tell you."

"Someone knows where Peter and Neal are and we are going to find that person. Speaking of which I have a meeting with someone this morning who might now where The Lizard is. I want to talk to him, he disappeared just before Neal did. I don't know if there is anything there, but I have to try."

"Thank you." Elizabeth leaned over and gave Mozzie a hug. "Thank you for everything."

"Of course."

"I just wish there was something more I could do to help."

"Sometimes the best thing you can do in stormy seas is just dop your sail and weather the storm, trusting that the sun will come back out."

Elizabeth smiled and gave Mozzie another hug. She offered to make him something for breakfast and he graciously accepted. After breakfast Mozzie left to meet up with his source that Elizabeth had the feel that Mozzie was either going to have to pay outright or at the very least owe them a serious favor in the future. Mozzie left, promising to be back later that night and encouraging Elizabeth to talk Satchmo to the park.

After taking a shower and getting dressed Elizabeth headed back downstairs to take Satchmo out. For the first three days that Peter had been missing Hughes had posted an Agent outside her home, but she had eventually been able to convince him that no one was coming for her and the man power was better used elsewhere. Before Elizabeth could pick up the leash there was a soft almost polite sounding knock at the door.

Tensing up Elizabeth shook off the brief flash of adrenaline that came from the unexpected intrusion. Satchmo headed for the door and barked once but nothing out of the ordinary. Elizabeth reached up behind one of the picture frames that was up on the entertainment unit and pulled down a small canister of highly potent pepper spray. Holding the weapon behind her back in case it was more than just an innocent visit Elizabeth headed to the front door.

A quick glance out the window showed her a man a few years older than Peter wearing a business suit standing on her front step. She didn't recognize him and she doubted that he was an Agent as Hughes would have called before sending anyone over. The man turned and spotted her through the window. He smiled at her the way a salesman would with a slight bow of his head. Feeling that if the man meant her harm that he wouldn't be standing on her door step in broad daylight Elizabeth went to open the door, although she did keep the pepper spray in hand.

"Hello?" Elizabeth greeted warily.

"Mrs. Burke, good morning, I am so sorry to bother you." York apologized. "My name is Charles Walker."

"How can I help you?" Elizabeth asked in a tone that suggested she didn't accept his apology.

"I'm actually hoping to help you. I learned about Agent Burke and his CI, and, well this is a little unorthodox for me to be here," York rambled, a little flustered by the awkwardness after the icy reception "but I am the founder of Light for the Lost, we are a non-profit organization that assists families that have been touch by the tragedy of a loved one going missing. We offer additional support and assistance finding missing persons particularly once their cases have gone cold as well as…"

"My husband's case isn't cold." Elizabeth interrupted.

"I know. Like I said it is a little unorthodox for me to approach someone about a missing loved one rather than the other way around. However I heard about Agent Burke's disappearance through a friend at the Bureau and…"

"Who?"

"I'd rather not get the Agent in trouble, he really shouldn't have told me."

"No." Elizabeth said coldly. "He shouldn't have."

"He meant well, and so do I."

"The FBI will find my husband."

"Being an Agent I know the FBI will place more effort into his case than your average run away teen," York agreed with a nod "however assistance on finding him isn't why I came here today."

"Then why are you here, Mr. Walker?"

"I want to help you. This is a terrible time for anyone and having people who have been there to talk to can help ease the pain. I wanted to personally invite you to one of our support groups, Mrs. Burke."

"I have support."

"Your friends and family mean well but they can only give you sympathy."

"Mr. Walk…"

"What you need right now is true empathy." York said seriously.

"Mr. Walker…"

"Please, call me Charles." York interrupted with a smile.

"Mr. Walker," Elizabeth still insisted "I appreciate you coming to see me, but I prefer to work directly with the FBI."

"Of course, I understand. However, please, at least take my card." York reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a plain white business card. "Our website has all the details on the meetings, you don't have to sign up, just come."

"Thank you." Elizabeth said in defeat as she took the card.

"You're welcome. If there is ever anything Light for the Lost can do for you, please, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you." Elizabeth repeated more genuinely.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Burke. I hope they find your husband and his friend soon."

"They will."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Well it wasn't easy...but I managed to get in a chapter before the holidays descend upon us. Hugs! Merry Christmas!

Chapter Twenty

"Hello, Rat."

Neal looked down at the fearless rat in his path that he had greeted. The rat sniffed at the air in Neal's direction in curiosity with one paw raised.

"You wouldn't happen to know a way out of here would you?"

Almost in answer the rat turned around and scampered off down the dirty hallway before disappearing into a small crack in the wall. Neal sighed at himself for talking to the local wildlife but in all honesty it had been nice to come across another living thing in the lonely maze. The fact that the underground labyrinth wasn't teaming with rats was just another reminder of how desolate and inhospitable it was down here. Neal couldn't blame the majority of the literally millions of rats that called New York home preferring the tunnels closer to the surface where they could get some fresh air when they wanted it.

Having come to another intersection Neal studied it carefully, looking for any traits that made it unique from the others. Traveling slowly through the tunnels in a systematic fashion Neal was working on building a map in his head the same way he used to memories the lay outs of museums and banks. He already knew the path between the room he and Peter shared and the elevator since Jake took them one level up to get to the ring. However he also knew the elevator was a dead end as far as escape was concerned.

Even Jake didn't have control over the elevator, it just arrived for them sent there by whoever was watching the camera footage from the small device stuck to the ceiling above the doorway into the shaft. The inside of the service elevator didn't have any buttons, the panel had been ripped off. Although the lowest level had the external floor doors removed the floors above still had theirs and even if Neal could figure out a way to scale up the dark shaft the external doors took a great deal of force to pry open and it wasn't something someone without climbing gear could accomplish from inside the shaft.

Knowing he'd just end up severely injured or dead mucking about in the dangerous elevator shaft Neal had moved on to hopefully find something more promising. He had gone in the opposite direction that he had Peter had explored the first time for two reasons, the first was to avoid accidentally bumping into Sawyer and the other was to avoid the hallway that had lead to the heap of dead bodies. The thicker dust on the halls in this direction gave Neal the impression that they were less used and so far he hadn't found any signs of life in the vast section of abandoned tunnel ways. Every time he came to a door he quietly tested it to see if it was locked. A majority of the time the doors were locked and Neal made it his on going mission to find something suitable for making a lock pick so he could gain access to the locked rooms. He had put his ear up to the locked doors and held his breath for a moment looking for signs of other prisoners, but so far had only been greeted by silence. The few doors that had been unlocked lead to dead end rooms that held nothing other than dust or mildew.

Walking down the empty deserted tunnel that held only the faint sound of his bare feet against the floor Neal started feeling disoriented. He had long since lost track of time and he knew Peter would be pacing their room with worry by now. Peter had made him promise that he'd take any way out he found but Neal assumed that they had both known he wasn't going to find anything during this first trip and that he'd return. Neal didn't think it was impossible to escape the maze but it certainly wasn't going to be easy. Right now he just wanted to start to get familiar with the area and do something other than just sit around helplessly.

The more Neal wandered around the network the more he started wondering about who built it and why, and if anyone other than York still even knew of its existence. Neal recalled that the Russians had supposedly build a secret city complete with transit system under Moscow back in Joseph Stalin's time. The so called Metro-2 was said to be used by top government officials for moving undetected around the city as well as being a bunker in case of destruction of the above ground city. There was no saying that New York officials hadn't had similar ideas of an underground hide away and built this place only to abandon it, possibly a Cold War relic or even older.

Lost in thought Neal stopped as he came to another dead end. He spent a moment fighting a pang of claustrophobia that was getting increasingly severe each time he came to an impasse in the concrete tomb he and Peter had found themselves sealed in. Stepping up to the wall he pressed his hand against it and found it to be cold. Knocking on the wall it sounded solid. The temperature and sound gave Neal the impression that the tunnel hadn't been walled off after the fact but rather it truly ended here. He had reached the outer limits of the city of the dead. Beyond the plain wall was miles of the solid bedrock that kept Manhattan from sinking into the sea like a modern day Atlantis. With his palm still against the rough wall he could almost sense the immense weight of the stone that surrounded them and it crushed down on his heart.

"We've been buried alive…"

Neal winced at the hopelessness in his voice as it echoed off the uncaring concrete and carried down the hall. The harsh reminder of their situation caused his infected brand to throb painful as though it was casting some sort of spell on him that kept him from being able to find a way out. Reaching up Neal dragged his hands through his hair before shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts as fear and desperation started to tainted his previous confident optimism at finding a weakness in their prison. He was far from ready to give up on the idea of escape but he was surprised by how quickly the isolation of empty tunnels had gotten to him. With his stomach twisting painfully he was suddenly anxious to return to Peter not only for his own peace of mind but also in fear of how being left alone in the locked room was affecting Peter as well. He knew he had only been gone a few hours but it was starting to feel like it had been days since he'd left the safety of his friend's side.

Having had enough exploring for the moment Neal tested his memory as he started heading back. Their best chance at survival down here depended on learning as much as they could about the underground prison in order to discover its weaknesses, but such a complicated task was going to take time and patience. Neal confidently made his way back through the stillness at first but when he came to an intersection that didn't feel familiar he realized he must have taken a wrong turn last time.

Neal's heart started thumping against his chest at the prospect of becoming lost in what was turning out to be a much larger area than he had first guessed. Either the original owners hadn't gotten to the part where they put up the helpful 'you are here' signs or else they had been taken down. Neal knew his best option was to back track until he recognized something, but the faint sounds of life suddenly drifted towards him from up ahead and made him rethink his decision to return to Peter right away. Just as important as learning the maze itself was learning about its inhabitants.

Curiosity won over caution as Neal carefully started making his way towards the source of the noise. It wasn't long before what had just been a muffled hum became the warm sounds of jovial conversation. The Labyrinth may be a nightmarish world for him and Peter, but ever dark place held creatures that felt at home there. With the amount of fighters and even audience members at the ring Neal had doubted from the start that Sawyer and his friends were the only other residents down here. Neal had already learned that not everyone down here was branded and that some were simply paying off debuts to York. Then there were men like Sawyer who appeared to just genuinely enjoy being down here in a world where he could play the part of blood thirsty Gladiator without any real consequence.

The real question on Neal's mind was if Jake was part of the festivities. Jake had a kind of desperate loneliness about him that seemed to at least in part fuel his delight in tormenting his captive branded audience. Jake had some form of power over Sawyer and the other unbranded men who still had a chance to win their freedom, but that wasn't the same as having a social circle. It could be that Jake simply disliked Sawyer, but Neal had a feeling that Jake's relationship with everyone down here was that of a Warden and not a friend. Learning that being the top hound in Hell was an isolating position could be used against Jake and would give Neal's attempts to make 'friends' with him a greater chance of success.

Sticking close to the right hand side of the hall Neal approached the open archway where the noise was coming from as quietly as possible. Although he didn't really need to be all that stealth as the sounds of the men talking loudly and somewhat drunkenly turned to a raucous cheering that closely mimicked the din made by the crowd that watched the fights. Neal's stomach turned as he approached the dangerous den of men. The usual rules of civilized society didn't count down here and anyone who caught him won the right to murder him or worse. Even criminal minded men on the surface world took pause when it came to murder if for no other reason than the fact that it brought greater attention from the law down on them. The only laws down here were the same ones that governed the animal kingdom: survival of the fittest.

Getting to the archway Neal pressed himself against the wall as he prepared to risk a glance inside to see what was going on. The glass cuts in Neal's shoulder protested violently to the pressure and started to bleed through the ruins of his dress shirt. Staying motionless for a few minutes Neal tried to time his peek into the room with a rise in the men's cheering. From the sound alone Neal guessed that there was about a dozen of them. Neal didn't hear anything that sounded like Jake's voice, but he wasn't convinced that he knew it well enough to pick it out of the general commotion.

When the noise level suddenly peaked Neal looked around the edge of the archway exposing as little of himself as possible. The room beyond the open archway was fairly large and set up like a commons room with a variety of tables, chair, and couches. There were playing cards, poker chips, a scratched up pool table, and other various forms of entertainment. Some of the tables held plastic jugs of what Neal assumed was alcohol as well as plastic cups since the rowdy men could easily turn anything glass into a weapon. There were about fifteen men gathered around the large sturdy table in the center where someone had just won an arm wrestling competition and was goading the crowd into offering him a more worthy opponent. Sawyer and his friends were on the scene joking with one another as they encouraged one another to step forward. Eventually one of the men that Neal didn't recognize knocked back what was left of his drink and threw the plastic cup on the ground like a Viking breaking a mug before sitting across the table to start a new round.

Neal had gotten a good enough view of the scene to satisfy his curiosity and to learn that Jake was not among the drunken revelry and he ducked back out of the entrance. What he didn't see was one of Sawyer's friends catching sight of the motion outside the door as he nudged Sawyer to alert him to the intrusion. Neal was about twenty feet down the hall near the first intersection when Sawyer stepped out into the hallway alone.

"Hey, Jail Bait!" Sawyer called out. "Wait, hold up!"

Knowing he was already a safe distance for a head start Neal glanced over his shoulder at Sawyer. Seeing he had Neal's attention Sawyer planted his feet and put his hands up slightly to make it clear he wasn't looking for a fight or a chase. Turning to face Sawyer Neal took a few steps back to keep his distance but waited to see what would happen.

"Don't worry, I know there's no point in chasing you. I've seen how fast you can run and besides I'm somewhat shit-faced right now." Sawyer chuckled as he took a few steps forward. "I just want to talk. I think we might actually have something to offer one another."

"That's close enough." Neal warned.

Sawyer stopped with a little more than ten feet between them. Neal stood his ground having decided that the rewards of learning something from an inebriated Sawyer outweighed the risks of talking to him, however he remained ready to bolt if Sawyer tried to lunge at him. Looking at Sawyer Neal was confident he could still easily out maneuver him, and being in the intersection it would be nearly impossible for Sawyer's friends to flank him even if there was another way out of the commons room.

For his part Sawyer put his hand down slowly and made no further moves to step closer. Sawyer had made it clear that he barely respected Jake and although Neal wasn't one to believe in the adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' he did still subscribe to the idea that the enemy of his enemy could be useful if played right. Looking like he was willing to play the same game Sawyer flashed Neal a forced friendly smile.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced." Sawyer said to break the ice. "My name's Tommy."

"Tommy…Sawyer?" Neal questioned automatically. "Your name is Tom Sawyer?"

"My parent's had high hopes of me being more into books." Sawyer rolled his eyes. "And you are…?"

"Caffrey." Neal offered.

"Not 'Agent Caffrey' then?" Sawyer asked knowingly.

"No." Neal replied knowing it was pointless to lie.

"I didn't think so." Sawyer smiled before giving Neal a mocking quizzical look. "So, what's a conman like you doing in a place like this?"

"Conman?" Neal asked innocently.

"You're not an Agent, however you're also not afraid of talking to me, meaning you've dealt with criminals before. At the same time you can't fight for shit so you must use intelligence and charm to deal with danger. So my best guess is you're a con artist. In fact I'm going to go one step further and say you're Burke's pet rat. Enjoying your time off anklet down here?"

"Not particularly." Neal admitted nonchalantly to hide his surprise at Sawyer's keen observation skills.

"I didn't think so. I may not be book smart," Sawyer added playfully "but I've got street smarts coming out my ass."

"And so eloquently spoken as well."

"I don't like you, Caffrey." Sawyer said flatly as his jovial mood suddenly turned a little darker.

"The feeling is entirely mutual."

"That being said I don't hate you either and so I am willing to offer you a deal: help me get to Burke and I'll end this nightmare for both of you in a relatively painlessly manner."

"I'm sure you will." Neal said dryly.

"I'm being entirely serious." Sawyer slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"Really? And you honestly think that's something I'd be interested in?"

"That brand Jake gave you is a slow and painful death sentence that no one escapes. My alternative of making things quick is more than fair."

"You know for a self-proclamation street smart man that's just bad negotiating." Neal complained. "Even if you think I can be bargained with, you start out with 'promise of a quick death'? That's a terrible opening offer, there is no where to go with that."

"No sense in trying to scam a scam artist." Sawyer shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't believe me if I just said I'd let you go or even if I said I'd let you live."

"Mostly because I know you don't have that kind of power down here."

"Maybe not, but consider this, Caffrey, you're just caught in the cross-fire between Burke and I. I don't really care what happens to you, but I'm not above using you to make Burke suffer."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that there's not much that you're above."

"You're not wrong." Sawyer admitted freely. "I might not have the power to let you go, but that doesn't mean I don't have something to offer."

"An 'easy out'."

"Exactly." Sawyer said as though he was being perfectly reasonable. "The brutal truth is that York seems to have special interest ensuring that you two suffer longer than most down here, I think you two are part of some sort of pilot experiment since I doubt you crossed York himself. Someone paid to have you and your Fed friend shipped down here. You're smart, you know your odds down here, I figured you might be interested in avoiding all that unpleasantness."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Don't take too long." Sawyer warned. "If you make me catch you rather than help me I promise you that your death is going to be extraordinarily messy. I will torture you mercilessly until Burke begs me for the privilege of killing you himself just to put you out of his misery."

"That's a really hackneyed threat." Neal replied unimpressed. "Besides, Jake doesn't seem to like to share his toys or else Peter would already be in the ring with you."

"Power shifts happen all the time in lawless places."

"I'll take my chances."

"Whatever. Like I said I don't care about you, rats aren't worth my time, but know that I am going to get Burke. It's only a matter of time and I'm a patient man."

"Unless someone gets him first." Neal pointed out.

"You think Tanner just let Burke live after that knock out because he's a nice and reasonable guy?" Sawyer chuckled.

Neal had suspected that Peter was some how under a kind of protection by Sawyer, and now he had confirmation that Sawyer was the only one allowed to make a killing blow. It would help Peter survive his fights for the time being, but the information also told him that Sawyer was just as feared and respected as Jake was. Jake coming to him and offering to help him cheat to kill Sawyer was starting to make more sense to Neal now. Jake was the closest thing to authority and order down here, but he wasn't all powerful and he wanted help eliminating his main competition.

"Jake may set the fights, but I can still rig them." Sawyer said proudly confirming Neal's thoughts. "It won't be long before York sees that Jake's losing his hold on his maze."

"And you want to be next in line?"

"Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven." Sawyer winked.

"Paradise Lost?" Neal asked impressed. "And here I thought you weren't into literature, let alone poetry."

"Poetry?" Sawyer repeated in disgust. "I saw it on a bumper sticker."

"That makes more sense."

"Run along back to your handler, Caffrey." Sawyer waved Neal away dismissively. "But, keep my offer in mind."

"Your offer of suicide by psychopath?"

"More of a mercy killing." Sawyer corrected.

"I still think I'll pass."

"Yeah, that's what they all say at first."

"'They'?"

"The branded men that I've euthanized in the past."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-one

Sitting in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest Peter shivered violently enough to chatter his teeth. Closing his eyes and swearing at himself in frustration Peter took a deep breath and forced the tremors back under control. Far from simply being caused by missing Neal's body heat the waves of tremors were more multi-factorial with a large component being anxiety over having Neal alone out in the dangerous tunnels. Peter had faith in Neal's ability to physically out run Sawyer or really anyone else he encountered, but it wouldn't take more than a single mistake in direction for him to end up cornered in a dead end.

As the hours slowly ticked by Peter took what little comfort he could in the fact that at least he knew that Sawyer hadn't caught Neal yet. If he had the first thing Sawyer would have done would have been to drag him back here to force Peter into opening the door. Peter had no illusions about Sawyer letting Neal live if he turned himself over, he'd just kill them both, but that was better than allowing Neal to suffer alone at the hands of an enemy that wasn't even his own. Peter didn't even considered the idea of hiding behind the locked door. If Sawyer caught Neal it would mean the end of them both.

"Unless Jake 'saves' us." Peter sighed to himself.

Becoming increasingly agitated as he waited for Neal to return Peter focused on the bite mark that was throbbing painfully on his arm. Unwrapping the gauze he found the area had become painfully swollen and warm to the touch. Picking at one of the scabs that had developed caused the wound to ooze out an off white sickly pus. Finding some relief from the pressure release he lanced a few of the other obviously infect tooth marks. The scent of rot and infection started to turn Peter's stomach forcing him to his feet so that he could go to the sink to wash the wound. Once up Peter had to brace his hand against the wall for a moment as his once dull headache suddenly stabbed sharply enough to mess with both his vision and his balance.

Struggling against the concussion Peter managed to make it into the bathroom where he ran some cold water over the injury for a moment. With the water still running Peter stared at his reflection in the small medicine cabinet mirror. He still didn't remember anything of the fight but the dark purple mark that started at his temple and ran down over his cheek was a powerful reminder that he had to do better next time. Not convinced he could do better Peter started to put some real hope into the idea that Neal hadn't returned yet wasn't because he'd gotten lost but because he had found a way out and actually taken it.

"Come back for me when you could have gotten away and I'll kill you myself." Peter warned his missing friend even though it was an empty threat.

Knowing that Neal wouldn't leave him down here at this point any more than he would leave him Peter was becoming increasingly concerned with the length of time he'd been away. Peter wasn't in the best condition to head out into the tunnels to go looking for Neal, but it was getting harder and harder to just wait even if it was the smart thing to do. Tired of waiting Peter turned the water off and went over to the box of medical supplies and fished out the bottle labeled 'aspirin' that he hoped actually contained aspirin. He and Neal had both expressed their doubts about it when they'd first found the bottle but Peter decided to risk it feeling that if he could just clear up his headache he'd be better equipt to head out into the labyrinth.

Shaking out two of the white pills Peter crunched down on the first one to make sure that it at least had the characteristic bitter taste of aspirin. Smacking his lips against the powerful bitter taste he reasoned that it was safe to take the second one with a swig of water. With the quick acting medication taking some of the edge off his pain Peter stepped into the small hallway that connected the bathroom with the front room. He froze in place when he heard a key grating in the lock. He had locked the door behind Neal having agreed on the classic 'Shave and a Haircut' knock as a signal for it being all clear to unlock it.

Trying to think fast spun Peter's mind a bit reminding him his concussion was still an issue, but he came up with a semblance of a plan and rushed back into the bathroom to turn the water on full before stepping out once again and closing the door behind him. He had just enough time to get into the front room before Jake opened it. The old lock and worn key didn't work all that well and it always seemed to take Jake a few tries to get the lock to turn which worked to Peter's advantage as it gave plenty of warning that their captor was about to pay them a visit.

"I know it hasn't been twenty-four hours, but I jus…" Jake stopped mid-sentence as he noticed that Peter was alone. "Where's Caffrey?"

"In the bathroom."

Jake thought about Peter's response before stepping into the room. Peter noticed how second nature it was for Jake to close and lock the door behind himself as though he was just as on his guard from an attack from behind as he and Neal were. Jake gave Peter a suspicious look before making a move to head towards the bathroom.

"I wouldn't go in there." Peter warned as he stepped in front of the archway that lead to the short hall. "Neal's stomach isn't doing very well."

"He's probably not used to eating cat food."

"He likes pâté, which I don't think is all that much different, but he assures me it is." Peter looked over his shoulder before flashing Jake a sympathetic grimace. "I suppose this proves him right."

Jake chuckled and relaxed the previous tension that had been across his shoulders when he'd first arrived. Peter forced as smile and tried to at least appear relaxed as well. He didn't think he had as much of a chance of fooling Jake into thinking they had a connection but if he was going to ask Neal to try he had to as well. Jake didn't seem to quite know what to do without Neal there to converse with. For a moment Peter thought he might just leave but instead he stepped closer and made a point of looking Peter up and down.

"I have to admit, Burke, I'm a little surprised to see you back on your feet so soon. How's your head?"

"Not great."

"Next time be faster." Jake advised.

"I'll try."

"It was a good fight, I honesty thought you were going to win." Jake praised.

"Thank you for not making Neal fight." Peter said genuinely.

"I keep my bargains…for the most part."

"Is this a bargain we can do again?"

"Caffrey didn't tell you?" Jake raised a surprised eyebrow. "Next fight it's his chance to be your hero, if he wins you don't fight. You're welcome."

"Jake…"

"Don't worry, he's going up against Marco who recently went blind in his right eye from a detached retina." Jake said casually.

The way Jake freely offered the critical information about Marco's weakness solidified Peter's thoughts that Jake didn't really want to see Neal dead. Knowing ahead of time that Neal's opponent had a new handicap on his right side was going to allow Peter to teach him to specifically take advantage of that weakness. There was a good chance that Jake just won the fight for Neal with his comment. Seeing that Jake appeared to be in a helpful mood Peter decided to press his luck with him a bit more.

"Jake," Peter said carefully "we both know Neal isn't last long down here."

"He's not the only one." Jake mocked. "Tanner really cleaned your clock, a few more knocks like that and you're not even going to be able to remember your own name."

"You're right, I can't keep this up, and the moment I can't you're going to have the death of a Federal Agent on your hands and the FB…"

"Not this again." Jake rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I know I've offered this before, but I don't think you've believed me. If you hel…"

"I believe you," Jake interrupted as he walked up to Peter and stared him down "I know the FBI would be endlessly grateful to get their Agent back. I turn state's evidence against York and his expansive list of crimes and I'm sure they would set me up with a whole new life. There's just one problem: I don't want a new life."

"You can't mean that, this is no way for a man to live."

"I'm not normal, Agent, so stop treating me like someone you can reason with. I'm a demon with sadistic tastes."

"Ja…"

"I'm guessing that you think I have some sort of empathy for Caffrey, but I don't. I simply enjoy him for what he is: a beautiful distraction." Jake purred darkly as he fearlessly pressed further into Peter's personal space. "He's more fun than I've had in years. I enjoy the way he looks at me with that perfect mix of terror and defiance, I love the way he bucks under me like a stallion that refuses to be broken but at the same time still ends up going in whatever direction I yank the reins."

"Jake, please…"

"Also I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a deep satisfaction from having a clearly proud Federal Agent cowed and on a short leash." Jake added with a cruel smile. "I don't get intelligent men to play with that often and what looks like mercy is just me wanting this game to last. But everything with a brand dies down here and you two are no exception, there is no escape, no forgiveness, no hope. For you at least, I'm fine…I chose this life."

Peter's skin had crawled at the passion in Jake's voice as he described his macabre love of torment, but there was something about his last statement that didn't ring true. Jake had started his speech with confidence but by the time he'd gotten to the end of it he was breathing heavily with his eyes looking bright with tears that he refused to shed.

"I'm not ashamed to admit that I live for the thrill of this kind of power, it's intoxicating." Jake continued sounding more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Peter. "The Labyrinth is where I belong, I enjoy hurting others."

"The way others have hurt you?"

Peter was careful to take a breath and hold it just in case Jake suddenly became violent and lashed out at him for the comment. Peter knew it was a risk to bring up an abusive past that he was certain Jake had suffered at some point but he hoped it might also open him up to a more human conversation. Jake's emotional state was so volatile that Peter felt that if he could just catch him in a moment of weakness that he would confide in him and he just might have a chance to sway him to their side. For a long moment Jake didn't react at all, he just stared at Peter frozen in a battle with his own emotions. Just as Peter had seen before Jake briefly appeared like he wanted to drop his tough guy persona, however before Peter could make a connection with him Jake took a step back and laughed off his near brush with compassion.

"Nice try, Burke." Jake chuckled. "Looking to get inside my head are you? Trust me, you won't like what you see."

"I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from."

"You're good, Agent, I'll give you that, very well played. I can't tell if you're just following FBI training to try and trick me into helping you or if you honestly believe there is hope for me to decide to become a decent person."

"There's hope for everyone." Peter replied honestly.

"I disagree." Jake said simply. "However, perhaps we can help each other anyway. Come with me."

Peter automatically glanced over his shoulder at the closed bathroom door nervously even though Neal wasn't actually behind it. Beyond worrying what Jake had in store for him he didn't want to leave with Jake knowing that he would lock the front door behind them and leave Neal trapped in the hall.

"Don't worry, I'll leave the door unlocked." Jake said reading Peter's thoughts perfectly.

"What?"

"I know Caffrey's not in the bathroom, cute little con and I actually fell for it at first, but he'd have to be at death's door to leave you out here alone with me this long."

"Jake…"

"Don't worry, I don't mind him exploring the Labyrinth. I wouldn't have left the door open to you two if I did." Jake shrugged as motioned towards the door. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Peter considered protesting but he didn't want Jake's mood to swing past his current calm and into violence. Either way if Jake wanted him out of the room he was going to get his way. As much as Peter hated to admit it Jake had a point about having him on a short leash, he was also right about him following his FBI training. The first rule was to attempt to humanize yourself to your captor to reduce the chance that they would kill you, but he kept falling short with Jake. Nodding in agreement Peter followed Jake out into the hallway hoping that whatever Jake wanted it would be quick enough to get him back here before Neal.

Jake opened the door and looked out in both directions, showing that same cautiousness that Peter had noted earlier. Peter wasn't exactly sure what Jake feared since so far he'd shown he had a good level of control over even Sawyer and his gang. Peter was still trying to figure out what Jake and Sawyer's relationship was but whatever agreement kept Sawyer in check around Jake appeared to be flimsy at best. With the way clear Jake stepped out into the hall with his usual confidence returned. Peter followed close behind suddenly realizing that this was the first time he'd been out in the hall with Jake without having his wrists zip tied behind his back, showing that if nothing else Jake was starting to trust him on some level even if was a subconscious one.

Peter memorized the turns they took as best he could in case Jake ended up just stranding him out in the maze. Eventually Jake came to a closed door. He brought out his keys but hesitated to use them. Peter had the distinct impression that Jake didn't realize how often he let his inner thoughts show as Jake unlocked the door and looked to Peter with a smug expression as if he hadn't just fallen out of character.

"After you." Jake said politely.

Jake probably thought he was about to take Peter by surprise but the scent in the air that had washed over Peter told him exactly what to expect in the next room. Stepping through the door Peter walked directly over to the dead man sprawled out on the blood stained floor without betraying the horror he felt at the sight. The beginning stages of rigor mortis had set in pulling the man's lips away from his teeth ghoulishly and prying his eyes open as he stared sightless up out of the gory mess that had once been his face. His shirt had been torn open revealing the maze shaped brand in his chest that had been there long enough to heal but not long enough to fade.

"Sawyer did this." Jake announced. "Since you fought hard enough to keep Caffrey out of the ring I placed Miller in with Sawyer instead. Miller didn't have a chance, Sawyer let him live through the fight only because he knew he wouldn't make it through the night and that he'd suffer more this way. Sawyer didn't even know this guy, but he still made sure he died choking on his own blood."

Peter listened to Jake's explanation of the scene without comment, however the blood spatter surrounding Miller suggested that he had been beaten to death right where he lay and not that he had been assaulted elsewhere and left here to die. Staring at the corpse Jake was rubbing the thumb of his left hand into the palm of his right compulsively drawing Peter's attention not only to Jake's anxiety but the fact that the knuckles across his right hand held fresh marks. Jake may want to blame the death on Sawyer but Peter knew he was standing beside the killer. His nervous body language and the violence of the death told Peter that it had probably occurred in a fit of blind rage that Jake hadn't meant to end in death. Peter's instinct was telling him that at least part of Jake regretted the brutal act. However, it complicated matters to learn that Jake was capable of taking a beating too far even if he was repentant after the fact and made Peter think twice about encouraging Neal to try and get closer to the dangerously unstable man.

"I can't imagine what Sawyer would do to Caffrey if he got a hold of him," Jake added grimly "but I can guarantee you it will be gorier than this."

"I thought you had control over him."

"I do, but I can't watch him constantly, and he's always testing his boundaries."

"And he's not branded so you can't just kill him." Peter guessed as he tried to understand the rules of his new world.

"Sawyer is a thorn in my side, but sooner or later he's going to be a sword in yours."

"You want me to kill him for you."

"It would be beneficial to us both, and I would be open to helping you make it happen."

"No."

For the first time Jake accepted hearing 'no' for an answer gracefully. Peter knew that Sawyer was more of a direct mortal threat at the moment than Jake but that didn't mean he was ready to actively plan Sawyer's murder. Jake looked around the room with seeming disinterest before turning his attention back to the man he had beaten to death in a fit of frustrated rage. Peter could see Jake planing out his next move in his head, Jake didn't always do a good job at hiding his intentions but he did have a calculating intelligence about him.

"Pick him up." Jake ordered.

"What?"

"Pick him up, I can't let him rot here the rats will find him eventually and then I'll have a real mess on my hands." Jake explained. "I keep asking York to get me more Quick Lime but he hasn't."

"I'm not..."

"Pick him up now or I'm going to lock you in here with him and Caffrey will be on his own."

Jake's tone had dropped into a icy emotionless that suggested he was getting close to fully losing his temper again. Peter doubted that Jake's threat was an idle one, but it still took him a full minute to resolve himself to perform the sickening task. Swallowing hard against a dry throat Peter knelt down next to Jake's victim and carefully slipped his hands under his knees and shoulders. The man's joints had started to stiffen but he hadn't been dead long enough to be fully ridged. The dead man didn't weigh very much as he lifted him up but the action of holding the lifeless shell added a devastating weight to Peter's heart. Holding the dead man close to his chest as though he was just sleeping heavily Peter looked solemnly to Jake for further direction.

Jake wordlessly left the room expecting Peter to follow, which he did. Peter knew that it really didn't mattered where the corpse was left in the vast mostly empty maze, it was the mental effect on his captive of having to move the cold body that Jake was going for. Which Peter knew was the same reason that he lied to him about Sawyer killing him. Peter assumed York was keeping Jake from killing Sawyer himself but he was determined to find a loop hole to get rid of Sawyer. Jake was working hard to spark his imagination and fear against Sawyer to push him closer towards feeling that a preemptive strike against Sawyer would be self-defense and not murder.

Despite knowing what Jake was doing with the psychological warfare it was working. As Peter carried the lifeless body down the echoing dark corridors he found himself having to keep looking down at it to assure himself that he was holding a stranger and not a friend. With the way things were going it wasn't difficult to imagine them dying down here, in fact it was getting harder and harder to imagine any other ending to their story.

When the already stale air started to truly close in around Peter with the heavy scent of death he knew where they were going. Jake pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth as he gingerly pulled open the door at the end of the long empty hall that he had lead Peter to. Peter's eyes water and he had to grind his teeth against the stench to keep from being sick as the scent intensified to the point where felt like a physical force. Jake stood to the side, unwilling to follow Peter into the room where he had been dumping the men who had succumb to the slow death sentence of the maze brand. Walking into the room Peter looked at the same three corpses that he and Neal had discovered earlier that had fallen further into decay. Peter couldn't bring himself to just piled the latest victim on top of the others and instead gently put him down next to them.

A quick survey of the room revealed a door in the back wall that he hadn't noticed the first time they had visited. With Jake outside Peter risked checking the door finding it locked. Peter made a mental note of the door thinking that if there was an exit anywhere placing it past a room of rotting flesh would be a good way to keep people from finding it. Retreating to the relatively clean air the hallway Peter finally gagged as Jake closed the door behind him.

"I strongly suggest you consider my offer about Sawyer or the next body I have you carry down here might just be Caffrey's."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter twenty-two

"Peter?"

With a ever deepening pit opening in his stomach Neal knocked on the door again with the cadence that they'd agreed on as a code for 'all clear' with no results. After talking with Sawyer Neal had spent about an hour back tracking until he'd found a tunnel he recognized in order to get back home. Neal had cringed internally when he'd caught himself calling the prison he and Peter shared 'home', but right now the room was the safest place he knew and having lived most his life on the run any safe haven in the past had earned the title of home.

With his skin chilled with anxiety Neal looked up and down the empty stretch of corridor half expecting some grotesque monster from a horror film to suddenly appear to chase him. Shaking his head to try to bring himself back to reality Neal knocked on the door again a little louder. At first he had thought that perhaps Peter was just in the bathroom, but after nearly ten minutes out in the hallway Neal was starting to fear that Peter had lapsed back into unresponsiveness.

"I shouldn't have left him alone." Neal chastised himself.

Feeling vulnerable out in the hall Neal wasn't sure what to do. Standing here too long was an open invitation for either Jake or Sawyer to find him, but he didn't really have anywhere safe to go and he wanted to be here when Peter woke up. Thinking about Jake Neal realized that he would have the key and that finding him might faster than just waiting. Before he went in search of the psychotic maze lord Neal tried the door handle, he highly doubted that it would be unlocked seeing no reason for that to be the case but felt it didn't hurt to at least test it.

When the door opened freely Neal rolled his eyes at his own stupidity for standing out in the hall for long, but the embarrassment was quickly replaced by an icy dread. The only reason for the door to be unlocked would be if Peter had left. Even Jake locked the door behind himself when he came to torment them. Opening the door carefully Neal stepped into the front room, horrified to find it empty. His hope perked up for a moment when he heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, but that wouldn't explain the unlocked door. Walking over to the closed bathroom door Neal knocked loudly on it.

"Peter?"

When he didn't get a response Neal opened the door. Furrowing his brow he tried to figure out why the sink would be turned on and then abandoned as he turned it off. Remembering how confused and disoriented Peter had been the first time he'd woken up Neal feared that he had fallen asleep and it had started all over again when he'd woken alone. Peter didn't have any memory of the fight, there was no telling if when he'd woken again if he had any memory of their conversation. He may have panicked having no memory that they had both survived the fight and had assumed the worst had happened.

"Please tell me you didn't go to hunt Jake down." Neal lamented.

Pacing back and forth a few steps anxiously Neal tried to determine how best to go about finding Peter in the literal maze of tunnels while hoping that he wasn't too late already. If Peter thought he'd been killed in the ring Neal knew he'd charge at Jake like an enraged bear and as much of a force to be reckoned with Peter could be Jake still wasn't a fight he could win even at his angriest. Jake was armed, younger, stronger and from what Neal had seen he had years of dealing with men like Sawyer under his belt. If Jake had to defend himself from Peter he could and may end up doing so with lethal force if pressed hard enough.

Praying that Peter was still prowling the tunnels Neal headed out of the bathroom into the short hall that connected to the front room. Neal was confident that if he could find Jake first that he could talk him into helping him find Peter and get him back to the room safely. Neal didn't even entertain the idea that Peter may have stumbled into Sawyer since if he had there was simply no hope of finding him alive. At least Jake had a twisted invested in keeping them around, even if it was just to provide entertainment.

Neal only got halfway across the front room when he froze as he heard footsteps out in the quiet corridors. It didn't take more than a second to identify that there was only one person drawing near. With his heart suddenly in his throat Neal waited passively to see who the footsteps belonged to assuming it was bad news either way. He hadn't locked the door and if it was Sawyer coming to gloat over slaughtering Peter he'd be trapped in the dead end room to be next. Jake had promised to leave them alone so if he was headed for the door alone it was likely because he was covered in Peter's blood after a misunderstanding turned deadly.

He knew he should try to lock the door or position himself to attack in ambush, but the constant stress of their captivity and the exhaustion of his hours spent exploring had left Neal in a state were he couldn't bring himself to act one way over a possible confrontation. If death was stalking down hallways he wasn't going to hide but he wasn't going to greet it at the door either, it would have to come to him. It took an eternity for the footsteps to reach the door and for the intruder to test the door. Fighting a sudden overwhelming urge to run Neal stared down the door as he waited for his next, and probably last, rival to reveal themselves.

Neal had been so convinced that an enemy was going to step through the door that he didn't even recognize Peter at first. Having known the door had been left unlocked Peter had been taking a chance of an ambush waiting for him as well. Having expected the worst himself Peter looked genuinely surprised to find Neal safe and relatively sound. Smiling at one another Neal and Peter both suddenly chuckled in rueful relief as the tension of the situation vanished upon reuniting with one another.

As Peter stepped up to him Neal was expecting a warm greeting however it still caught him off guard when Peter wordlessly pulled him into a powerful hug as though they'd been separated for years rather than hours. Neal wasn't exactly sure how to take the unexpected affection, but he accepted it without question, enjoying the brief moment of peace even if it brought with it new concerns. Neal didn't know what had happened to Peter out in the tunnels but he knew it must have shaken him to the core to prompt the intimate display. Peter eventually released Neal and took a step back so that he could lock the door. Turning back to Neal he looked at him with a hopeless horror that made the room suddenly feel twenty degrees colder.

"I don't like that look, Peter, that's the 'we're going to die down here' look."

"I was wrong about Jake, Neal." Peter said in a almost apologetic tone. "Stay away from him as much as you can, there is no making friends with him, there'd be no sense in it even if you did."

"Peter, what happened?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Peter said wearily. "Just…try to stay on his good side, but do not antagonize him by patronizing him."

"Peter, seriously, what happened out there?"

"Did you find a way out?" Peter asked to avoid answering Neal.

"No."

"I might have a place you can try, it's going to take some time though it's behind a locked door."

"I never really expected to find an exit without a lock, we need to work on a lock pick."

"Right." Peter nodded vacantly looking ready to pass out. "A lock pick, that's…that's going to take some time."

"Peter?" Neal asked concerned. "Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should lay down."

"No. We need to get you ready for your fight, winning will buy us some time."

"You don't look in any shape to be teaching me."

"I know, I'm fine." Peter contradicted himself. "Besides Jake's rigged the fight in your favor."

"He told you that?"

Peter nodded looking disconnected from the conversation, lost in his own dark thoughts. Neal doubted that it was just the concussion still at work. He was getting the distinct feeling that Peter had figured something out that he didn't want to share but also felt he didn't have the right to keep to himself. Neal put his hand on Peter's shoulder to get his attention and gave Peter an expectant look.

"Peter, it's my life down here too, we can't be keeping secrets." Neal said gently. "What happened with you and Jake?"

"He beat someone to death bare handed." Peter admitted quietly.

"In front of you?" Neal asked horrified.

"No." Peter shook his head. "He just…showed me the body."

"Someone with a brand?"

"A healed one." Peter confirmed.

"How long do you think it takes a mark like this to heal?" Neal asked dreading the answer.

"A month at least, more likely two in conditions like this."

"At least that means we might have some time." Neal pointed out. "Jake…"

"Neal, he's a murderer." Peter said flatly as if Neal hadn't already understood that fact.

"That surprises you?"

"What surprises me is how deeply he regrets it, which makes him more dangerous."

"It does?"

"It means he didn't mean to take things that far, a slip of his temper, he wasn't in his right mind when he did it."

"Peter, Jake's never in his right mind."

"I know, but…" Peter hesitated. "I…"

Stopping himself from continuing Peter closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as if trying to convince himself that he was wrong about something. Neal gave Peter a moment to come to grips with whatever new aspect of their dire reality he had discovered knowing that it had to be more than the murder that was affecting him. Opening his eyes Peter just stared at Neal as if hoping that Neal would just guess the bad news so that he wouldn't have to say it out loud. Neal was usually good at picking up on Peter's non-verbal cues but all he could see in his dark tired eyes was the mounting stress of what he had to say.

"Peter, we've known for the start how violent Jake is. What is this really about?"

"I…think I know why Jake's so unstable, why he craves social interaction but the same time just uses it to torture us, why he keeps trying to keep us alive but not to the point of helping us escape, why he needs me to kill Sawyer, why he locks doors behind himself, why he's letting you explore the tunnels, why he doesn't have any more Quick Lime…"

"Quick Lime? Peter, slow down." Neal interrupted Peter's near ranting. "What are you talking about?"

"I think Jake has moments of empathy for us because he is one of us."

"You think Jake's a prisoner?"

"A branded one."

"Peter..."

"Jake isn't refusing to help us escape, Neal, he *can't* help us."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait!

Chapter Twenty-three

Looking down at the spattered puddle of blood on the floor Neal swallowed hard against his sandpaper throat to try and push his racing heart back down into his chest. The fight that had just finished had been a heavily one-sided one and sickeningly bloody, the weaker fighter had lived but just barely. Even knowing Jake had set this fight in his favor Neal feared his fight was going to be similar and that they were going to be washing his blood off the floor as well, and if that happened Peter's would be next.

Peter had tried to assure him that he could take care of himself if he had to fight tonight and pressed Neal to forget about winning or losing and just focus on surviving it. Despite his brave words Neal noticed the way Peter kept catching his balance and the obvious headache pain he was still suffering. Peter needed this break from the ring if he was going to recover from the brutal knock-out. Even just trying to show Neal some moves this morning had taken all Peter's energy.

"Don't draw your arm back, it advertises your move and leaves you wide open, keep your hands up like this…" Peter had raised Neal's hands up in traditional boxer starting position and curled his hands into fist, tapping on the first and second knuckles. "Jab out with the left to find your range, then put the real force into the right. One, two. Keep your wrist slightly down, your thumb outside your fist, land a strike with your knuckle not the flat of your fingers, chin down, punch out with your arm level with shoulder height, lead foot forward, just follow through with your hips and snap back after you make contact don't follow all the way through with your whole body: you're throwing a punch not a baseball."

"Peter, I'm never going to remember all of this."

"I know," Peter had shaken his head and instantly regretted it with a wince of pain "just remember what you can.

Standing in the middle of the ring failing to keep from trembling slightly Neal was starting to wish that they could just get this fight started as he tried recall the advice Peter had given him. Jake had pushed him out into the ring early so that betting men above could get a good look at him to increase the odds of them putting their money down against him. The crowd was excited to see more blood and were being very vocal about it, although the noise of the arena couldn't compete with Neal's own pulse pounding in his ears.

Back in the cage on the far side of the ring Peter watched Neal with an ever tightening knot in his stomach. He had done his best to help Neal prepare but he feared a few hours of practice and tips weren't going to be enough. Neal wasn't violent by nature and he was going up against someone who was. Half blind or not having the drive to hurt another living creature was a huge advantage in a no rules death match. Acting only on the defensive might keep Neal alive, but it wasn't going to win any fights or even keep him from getting hurt.

Waiting for the coming storm Neal was already panting for breath as his adrenaline soaked blood demanded more oxygen. When Marco entered the ring to the cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd Neal stepped back as his eyes widened in fear. Peter's own heart skipped a few beats at seeing the man Jake thought Neal could take on. Marco was about Neal's height but had to have at least fifty pounds on him. His poorly done tattoo work hinted at some hard time served as he strode calmly towards Neal with a cocky smile slung across his bruised face. The white of his right eye was blood red giving him a demonic appearance. Staring at the man Neal brought his hands up curled into fists but he didn't look confident about using them.

"Caffrey needs to get his tail out from between his legs." Jake growled in frustration.

"What?"

"He looks terrified." Jake complained.

"He *is* terrified." Peter barked. "He can't fight that animal!"

"Worthless." Jake rolled his eyes as he opened the bars to join Peter. "Both of you. Utterly worthless."

"What are you doing?"

"He's going to lose if someone doesn't light a fire under him." Jake explained as he went to step into the ring.

"Let me talk to him." Peter offered as he stepped up.

"You'll just make him worse," Jake said as he shoved Peter back "I've got this."

"Jake, please…" Peter stopped his plea and instead went to warn Neal of his approach. "Neal!"

Hearing Peter call his name Neal looked over his shoulder and found Jake stalking angrily towards him. Caught between Jake and Marco Neal wasn't sure what he should do. The clock had been set to fifteen minutes but the starting bell was being delayed by Jake entering the ring. The on lookers booed and jeered at the hold up but in a tone that suggested that were still excited to see whatever new drama was about to unfold. Neal understood the leaps of logic that had lead Peter to believing that Jake was a prisoner of some sort, and Neal had agreed to entertain the idea at the time, but seeing him now in full charge of the evenings violent entertainment he was no longer sure.

"Jake…"

"Shut up." Jake grabbed Neal by the upper arm before looking to Marco. "Give us a second."

"Change your mind about letting me murder your little branded bitch?" Marco mocked.

Jake didn't bother to respond he just jerked Neal along with him as he moved a few feet away. Confused Neal didn't even try to fight back as Jake pulled him in close so that he could bring his lips up to his ear. Neal was expecting Jake to snarl some sort of threat at him as if he didn't already know the stakes but instead Jake lowered his voice into a reassuring tone.

"Don't be afraid of Marco." Jake whispered.

"Ja…"

"Be afraid of me." Jake kept his same soothing tone. "Marco is just a man, I'm a monster."

"Jak…"

"Embarrass me by losing this fight and I will rake Peter over the coals, literally. Forget making him fight, I will devote the next week of my life to making him scream, something you know I'm good at. I'm going to record ever second of it and send the audio to his wife, the only way she is going to be able to get her husband's cries out of her head will be with a bullet."

Neal jerked his head away from Jake and glared at him with his blood suddenly boiling over the threat of dragging Elizabeth more into this nightmare more than she already was.

"There's that anger," Jake smiled brightly "now use it."

"Wha…"

Jake used his grip on Neal's arm to throw him towards Marco. Neal managed to stop himself before he crashed into the muscular man but ended up off balance and fell to one knee making it look like he was kneeling in surrender to him. The crowd laughed as they all felt they were going to win their bets against him easily. Neal ground his teeth against his rising blood pressure. Marco also chuckled and looked down on him with an amused grin that further fueled Neal's frustrated rage as he became increasingly angry with being powerless. Walking casually back towards Peter Jake lifted his arm up and made a circular motion with his wrist to signal that they could start the clock.

When the bell rang Marco was still busy gloating over what he felt was an easy win. Still down on one knee Neal briefly closed his eyes as his senses became overwhelmed by the competing emotions of fear and anger coupled with the stimulation of the noisy crowd and the powerful adrenaline. He snapped out of his momentary trace when Marco reached down casually to grab a fist full of his hair. Instead of pulling back to avoid Marco's attempt at the humiliating hold Neal used the foot he had planted on the floor to launch himself up and into his opponents midsection with a considerable amount of force.

Surprised by the attack Marco cried out as he was knocked breathless. Taking advantage of the upper hand Neal slammed his fist into Marco's ribs several times in quick succession. Marco was driven back a few steps further back before he recovered enough to trying and fight back. Using his superior strength Marco put his hands on Neal's chest and shoved him back. Although momentarily thrown off Neal jumped up and charged fearlessly back into the fray like a dog taking on a bear.

Standing on the far side of the bars Peter watched in horror as Neal became completely lost in his aggression. Completely ignoring any of the advice Peter had tried to impart on him this morning Neal was just attacking tooth and nail, emotion driving his assault rather than a calculated strategy. Luckily for Neal the style was working against Marco who was clearly caught off guard by the passionate onslaught. Half blind and not as skilled a fighter as Peter had feared Marco's reaction was almost completely defensive. A calmer fighter would have taken a few blows from Neal while waiting for an opportunity to end Neal's belligerence with a single well timed strike to the face once he tired himself out a little. In the first five minutes of the fight Peter counted half a dozen moments when Marco could have taken advantage of Neal's guard being down and knocked him out, but he was too busy just trying to keep his good eye on his quick opponent to take the shot.

"Neal!" Peter cried as Marco finally landed a truly solid hit.

The crowd had taken a breath as one in mock sympathy at the sickening sound Marco's fist made when it made contact with Neal's ribs. Neal staggered back, wrapping his left arm over his possibly broken ribs as he spat blood on the already heavily stained floor. Separated for a moment both men heaved for breath as sweat rolled off their skin. Losing his momentum Neal started trembling as he glanced over at the clock and found he still had nine minutes left.

Neal looked back over his shoulder at where Peter was watching him helplessly with an expression of horrified realization. Peter was having the exact same thought: Neal had started the fight too hot and didn't have the stamina to finish it. Marco had regained his composure and noting the clock himself he chuckled as he clenched his fists and drew his shoulders back to show he was just getting started.

Peter was about to turn to Jake and beg him to intervene before Neal got himself killed when Neal mouthed 'I'm sorry' before turning back to Marco. Peter had thought Neal was apologizing for losing, but the way he launched at Marco with a singular purpose made Peter realize that he was apologizing for what he was about to do. Jumping up high Neal wrapped his legs around Marco's waist to give him some leverage. Grabbing Marco's hair with one hand to pull his head back Neal clawed at the left side of Marco's face.

Roaring in rage Marco managed to throw Neal off and to the floor but it was too late the damage had already been done. Marco cried out in terror at finding himself completely blinded. Shaking uncontrollably Neal didn't even bother getting back to his feet, exhausted he just stared blankly up at Marco as he stumbled back lashing out at the air in front of him. The clock continued to count down but it no longer mattered, Neal had won the fight.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! Damn that was heartless!" Jake crowed. "I knew there was fight in you Caffrey! You just needed a push!"

"What…what did you say to him?"

"Trust me, Agent, you don't want to know."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-four

Sitting in the corner of the desolate concrete room Peter stared at the water stain running down the far wall trying to visualize anything other than a pool of blood in its pattern but still finding himself always coming back to the particular comparison. He had been studying the stain for hours but still didn't have it memorized as it was just another shade of gray on gray in their monochromatic world, but looking at the slightly darker gray spot was as good a distraction as any. Peter pulled his attention away from the stain when Neal went into another bought of shivering that had nothing to do with the cold. Jake had actually offered them a large wool blanket that they currently had draped around them making them more comfortable than they had been since their ordeal had started.

The warmth didn't keep Neal from periodically shaking like he'd been left out in the snow on a bitter cold day because it had nothing to do with his physical state. Peter held him a little closer tying to comfort him while at the same time being mindful of the ribs Marco had most likely cracked. It was hard to tell if the added psychological support of the embrace helped stop the shaking or if the pain it caused his ribs simply distracted Neal from his dark thoughts. Either way it worked and Neal managed to regain control for the time being. Neal had rolled over at some point to put his ear against Peter's chest. Despite the discomfort it caused his brand Peter allowed Neal to listen to his heart as it had appeared to calm him, although his breathing suggested that he still hadn't fallen asleep. Proving he was awake Neal pressed his hand into Peter's side briefly in a silent appreciation of the help with the tremors that kept coursing through him.

Resting his chin over the top of Neal's head Peter went back to staring at the water stain knowing that Neal's thoughts were probably wandering back to the ring and the gory end to the battle. It wouldn't be long before he was shaking again, haunted by the memory of his actions to the point where it manifest itself in his flesh. Fearing he wasn't dealing with Neal's shock very well Peter sighed heavily knowing that he should be encouraging Neal to talk to him about what had happened but finding himself too heavy hearted to speak. He had tried at first to break Neal out of his eerie silence, but had switched tactics to giving Neal some time to process it on his own. However now it had been nearly six hours since Neal had last spoken, although his last words were still echoing in Peter's mind.

The fight with Marco had not ended with Neal's gruesome attack on his sight. Neal had made a terrible mistake assuming that Marco would give up once blind and didn't work on getting back to his feet right away. Marco had been disoriented at first and had bellowed a horrifyingly anguished cry that had caused Neal to make his second big mistake: he apologized.

"I'm sorry…I…"

"Neal, no!" Peter shouted.

"That was really dumb." Jake mocked.

Peter's warning had come far too late. Marco had honed in on Neal's voice and threw himself at him with the reckless abandon of a man without anything left to lose. Neal cried out in surprise and tried to scramble back but Marco was on him in seconds. Neal quickly found himself like prey in a snake's coils as Marco wrapped his arms around his hips and tried to physically squeeze the life out of him. Neal tried to twist his way out but only managed to rolled them both over several times. With eight minutes still on the clock there was no way the bell was going to save him in time as Marco started grappling up his body in an attempt to get around his chest and crush his ribs.

"Neal!"

"Don't just shout, Burke, be useful." Jake said calmly. "Tell him what to do."

"Neal, Beethoven!"

"There ya go, good plan." Jake praised from his place on the far side of the bars.

Neal had been doing everything in his power to inflict pain on Marco but his only real target had been the man's muscular shoulders and the hard top of his head. Marco had tucked his face down to keep Neal out of his eyes as he worked to improve his hold on him. His ear however was a prime target if attacked right. Peter had used the one example he could think of to give Neal the hint without tipping Marco off.

Neal clearly hadn't understood at first but after Peter repeated his odd advice Neal took action. Flattening out his hand Neal slammed his palm down hard over Marco's ear. The pressure wave blew out Marco's ear drum, not only deafening him on that side but also bringing with it an explosion of pain. Screaming in a combination of rage and agony Marco automatically released his hold on Neal giving him a chance to escape. Rolling over onto his stomach Neal desperately clawed at the concrete to get away from Marco's deadly grasp. He managed to get mostly away before Marco clamped down on his left calf. Knowing that Marco would just pull himself back up his body Neal rolled over on his back to try and free his leg. When that failed he hesitated on his next move even though he had a very clear one.

"Kick him!" Jake called out.

"Let me go!" Neal cried in warning.

Ignoring him Marco went to pin Neal by his leg so that he could launch himself up and attempt to get to Neal's throat.

"Neal!"

Peter couldn't bring himself to demand that Neal kick at his opponent in the face but his tone highly suggested it. Closing his eyes and looking away Neal brought his right leg up and kicked at Marco with all his strength. Striking Marco square across the bridge of his nose with his barefoot caused an eruption of blood and Neal was suddenly free as Marco went limp.

"Did he just kill him?" Jake asked shocked.

"The fight is over, let me out there!" Peter demanded urgently. "Open the gate!"

"It's not locked."

Peter shot Jake an angry glare at Jake and took a breath to curse at him but reminded himself that he had better things to do. When Jake had returned from the pep talk he'd given Neal he had closed the gate behind himself but Peter had been too distracted to notice that he hadn't locked it. Rushing over to the gate he pulled it open and ran out into the ring as the bell sounded officially ending the fight a few minutes early due to Marco being knocked out or possibly dead.

Having learned his lesson the first time Neal was doing his best to put as much distance as possible between himself and Marco. Failing to get to his feet he resorted to his hands and knees. Reaching him Peter went down on his knees and put his hand on Neal's shoulder without thinking. After the near brush with death Neal lashed out at Peter assuming he was a threat. Peter was surprised to find that Neal still had the strength to rear up as he ended up knocked back to the floor. Neal was on top of him with his blood soaked fist drawn back before Peter could even take a breath to call his name. Seeing Peter Neal froze in place with a labored panting as he stared down at his friend with confusion glittering in his bright blue eyes.

"It's okay, Neal, the fight's over."

Without responding Neal looked over his shoulder at where Marco was laying in an expanding pool of blood breathing heavily. Marco groaned as he slowly surfaced back into consciousness. It was difficult to tell if he would ever see again through the blood and the swelling, but Peter felt there was a good chance Neal had done enough damage to blind him for life and render him deaf on one side. Seeing what he'd done Neal got off Peter before doubling over in a violent fit of dry heaving that stole his breath away as he whimpered in pain from the strain on his ribs between gasps.

Peter tried to get Neal up to at least get him away from the jeering crowd but shaking from his own adrenaline fading from his system he wasn't able to. Jake had stepped out into the ring and wordlessly reached down and helped Peter get him up. Peter had barked Jake away last time but accepted the help only because it was what was best for Neal right now. Once Neal was standing Peter pulled him away from Jake. Holding his hands up peacefully Jake motioned towards the gate in a polite 'after you' motion. Peter wanted to punch Jake for the courtesy but needed to help keep Neal on his feet.

Once back in the relative safety of their room Peter had taken Neal directly back into the bathroom. Locked deep in shock Neal just passively accepted whatever motions Peter put him through as Peter helped him wash the blood off his hands in the sink. Neal had noticeably kept his eyes cast away from the mirror and the blood swirling down the sink as Peter washed the gore off as best he could. Peter had considered pulling him under the spray of a shower but decided that Neal needed to lay down more than he needed to be clean. They'd had to stop several times on the way back down to room as Neal's stomach had rebelled on him once again and as time was passing he was quickly getting worse as he trembled hard enough to cause his teeth to chatter.

By the time Peter brought Neal back out into the front room Jake was mercifully gone, having also left behind the heavy wool blanket. Peter wasn't sure if Jake was concerned about Neal or if the blanket had been part of their 'winnings'. Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth Peter had spread the blanket out before settling in the corner with Neal laying against him. Pulling the rest of the blanket up over them both Peter took a deep breath and tried to sort through everything that had happened. It took him a moment to realize that Neal hadn't spoken since his last demand to Marco to let him go before he was forced to violently release himself.

Peter had felt at first that it might be best not to talk about what had just happened. Having been in a near trance since being taken out of the ring he had assumed Neal would quickly fall asleep but ten minutes after they had laid down Neal started the first of many shivering episodes. Concerned but unsure how to help Peter held him closer while he searched for some words that might help. Before he could really figure out what he was going to say Neal beat him to it with a question that had instantly ended the conversation before it had begun six hours ago and still haunted Peter now.

"Peter...what's the point in surviving this if I can't live with myself afterward?"


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-five

"Did you talk to the Big Boss about your interloping intruder?"

"I did."

"Do you need me to 'take care' this creep?" Mozzie asked seriously. "I know people who specialize in these sorts of things…well not really, I try to stay away from the violent types, but I'll hunt someone down if need be for you."

"Thank you, but no, Mozzie. It's fine." Elizabeth smiled at Mozzie's overly protective offer. "I talked to Reese and although he's livid that someone at the Agency talked to Mr. Walker about Peter he assures me that Light for the Lost is a well known and trusted organization. As inappropriate as it was coming to my house Mr. Walker was just trying to help."

"I still don't like him." Mozzie huffed sourly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to get rid of him for you."

"It's okay, Mozzie, I can take care of myself."

"Of that I have absolutely no doubt," Mozzie replied truthfully "however just because you can do something alone doesn't mean you should have to."

"Thank you, Mozzie. I can't tell you how much your support has meant to me, your optimism even more so."

Elizabeth reached out and gave Mozzie a warm hug. When she released him she had to reach up and dab the back of her hand against her eye to keep from spilling the tears that had brightened them. As often as Mozzie had seen her either in or near tears over the past three weeks it still never failed to increase the weight on his heart. He had been fighting his own battle with optimism lately but he was going to great lengths to hide it from her. Much like the FBI he'd been chasing his own tail since this started without getting anywhere.

Elizabeth had been keeping a brave front as well, but he wasn't sure how much longer it was going to last. There was one major aspect of how she was dealing with the situation that had Mozzie worried in particular. He wasn't sure if it stemmed from her determination to take care of herself as she had put it or if it was a kind of deep denial. Either way he didn't feel it was healthy and although he'd left the subject alone for the past week he felt it was time to broach the subject once again.

"Elizabeth," Mozzie hesitated before continuing "I know this really isn't any of my business, but…"

"No." Elizabeth interrupted quietly, knowing what he was going to ask. "I haven't talked to them yet."

"Elizabeth…"

"I tried, I've tried a hundred times." Elizabeth said miserably. "I pick up the phone to call and I break down every time. I can't. It makes everything so much more real."

"I know it's hard, but your family would want to support you."

"Years ago when things started getting serious between Peter and I, and they got serious very quickly, my mother only voiced a single concern and that was that Peter's job was too dangerous."

"Life is too dangerous. Having someone means you might lose them no matter what they do for a living."

"I told her that and that I loved him and that no matter what happened nothing could take that away from me. Every chance at happiness comes with risk."

"'A ship in harbor is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.'." Mozzie quoted John Augustus Shedd with a slight smile.

"Even if Peter never com…" Elizabeth stopped herself as her voice caught in her throat. "I don't regret a single moment."

"Of course you don't, no one is going to think that you do."

"I know, it's not that. I know its silly, but I feel like telling them is giving up on Peter coming home."

"It's not silly." Mozzie assured. "But I still say you need to reach out to them."

"It would be different if…" Elizabeth just shook her head not wanting to say out loud that things would be easier if she had proof Peter was dead. "I'm sorry, Mozzie, I'm not ready."

"Don't apologize. Just know that everyone who loves you only wants to help."

"I know, but they can't really understand." Elizabeth said with a sudden bitter edge to her voice. "As disconcerting as I found him, Mr. Walker was right about one thing."

"What?"

"I can't handle anyone's sympathy right now, I just can't, not even from my own parents."

Mozzie nodded his understanding. He considered offering her a hug but he decided that wasn't what she needed right now. Instead he took a step back physical as he also backed down from his advice that she talk to her family. Elizabeth was looking defiant and Mozzie got the feeling that she was beginning to teeter from denial over to anger in her grief progression. He wouldn't blame her for wanting to seek out a fight right now, as a distraction if nothing else, but he really didn't want to be the center of a true argument with her. She had been shutting out friends and family from the start and the last thing he wanted was to be added to list of people she didn't want around.

An uneasy tension had fallen over the room and although Elizabeth had looked on the verge of snarling at him just seconds ago her expression had turned to one of guilt. Mozzie was worried about her increasingly unsteady mood but it was something that he just had to let happen for now as any attempt to help was only going to make it worse. On the verge of tears once more Elizabeth took a breath to apologize but Mozzie just shook his head to let her know it wasn't needed. Elizabeth smiled warmly at him before closing her eyes briefly with a weary sigh.

Mozzie was about to suggest an early bedtime for her when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Usually he would ignore it, but he had been waiting hours for a particular text. Considering that the only two people who had his current number were Neal and the person he was waiting to hear from Mozzie pulled his phone out. It had taken a small fortune to get the address that he'd just been texted and it was the fourth such address he'd been given. The first three had been fake and there was no telling if this one was good or not until he went there.

"Good news?" Elizabeth asked in a tone that didn't quite dare to hope.

"I don't know, it's a long shot."

"That's all we have right now."

"I'll be back soon."

"Be careful."

"I will." Mozzie assured. "I'll text you the address once I'm there, if you don't hear from me in two hours give it to Hughes."

"He would go with you right now."

"No. Feds will just spook Anthony. I'll be fine, he's not dangerous, I just want Hughes to have my only lead if something goes wrong."

"Let me drive you." Elizabeth offered as she hurried over to the sideboard and got her keys and cell phone.

"Elizabeth, no…"

"You said he wasn't dangerous." Elizabeth pointed out. "I'm not asking to come inside, I'll stay in the car."

"I don't think…"

"Please. I can't just sit and wait anymore."

"Promise me you'll stay in the car?" Mozzie asked as he gave in.

"Of course. I won't be able to find a parking space in Chinatown this time of night anyway."

"How do you know…"

"I'm the spouse of a Federal Agent, I know how to clone a cell phone."

"What?!"

"I'm just kidding. But I can read upside down."

"Oh, right." Mozzie flushed.

Elizabeth chuckled at Mozzie's embarrassed blushing. It was the first true moment of levity that they'd experienced since this had started. Mozzie feared Elizabeth was a little too hopeful about this weak lead but it was still a positive sign to hear her laugh again. On their way to Chinatown Mozzie explained how Anthony had gone suddenly missing as well but how he had now apparently resurfaced even though he was doing his best to hide. He explained that he had no real way of knowing if there was any connection but that Neal had railroaded Anthony into helping him on a case a few weeks before he'd unexpectedly vanished. Elizabeth agreed that the connection was tenuous at best but she was grateful that Mozzie had taken the effort and expense to hunt Anthony down.

"Don't circle the block." Mozzie advised as he got out of the car a block away from the address. "Loop out and around. I'll text you when I'm done and we'll meet back here. Give me half an hour before you think about call in any back up."

"Okay." Elizabeth agreed. "Go find our boys, Mozzie."

"I will."

Stepping into the rundown 'rent by the month' apartment complex in the back streets of Chinatown Mozzie made a mental note to thoroughly check himself for bed bugs before getting back into Elizabeth's car. Walking up five flights of uneven stairs Mozzie made his way towards the address his connection had given him. He found his heart pounding at the prospect of having to return to Elizabeth and announce that this had just been another dead end. Getting to the door Mozzie knocked. He had thought of just picking the lock but if Anthony was expecting trouble he might have armed himself.

Anthony couldn't be too high on guard because Mozzie could hear him get up from a squeaky couch with a loud grunt of pain rather than trying to be stealthy. Anthony opened the door about a foot revealing that the entire left side of his face had been badly beaten to the point that his eye was nearly swollen shut. The bright variety of colors on his face showed that he had injuries in multiple stages of healing suggesting more than one painful encounter. His existing skin condition that left him with bright red patches and flaky skin added to his gory look.

"That was fas…" Anthony stopped himself as he looked down at Mozzie. "Oh. You. Look, unless you've started muling prescription pain drugs then piss off."

"Lizard, where the hell have you been?"

"Don't call me that."

"What happened to your face?"

"None of your business. Go away."

Anthony tried to close the door but Mozzie slipping in under his arm and let himself in. Anthony made a growl of annoyed disgust at the intrusion. Ignoring his unwanted house guest he wandered back to the only piece of furniture, a blood stained couch that looked like he'd dragged it in off the street. Sitting down with another groan of pain Anthony wrapped his arms over his stomach as he made a point of not looking at Mozzie. He looked a little short of breath with a fine bead of sweat at his hairline.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"No, you look like you need a hospital."

"I don't have insurance." Anthony hissed sarcastically. "What do you want? If this is about that job I skipped out on I had bigger problems, okay? So just let it go."

"I'm not here about that. My friends have been kidnapped."

"You mean your blackmailing rat and his Fed?" Anthony grumbled.

"Neal didn't blackmail you."

"No, it was worse than that, he almost got me killed. He's the reason I'm sporting an uglier mug than usual and pissing blood. However I ain't involved in any kidnappings, do I look like I could pull something like that off even if I wanted to?"

"Anth…"

"I don't know nothing about anything," Anthony panted in pain "just get out. Leave me alone."

"Where were you? Who did this to you?" Mozzie demanded.

"Go away." Anthony repeated.

"I'm not leaving until I have a name."

"Then yer shit outta luck because I wouldn't have one for you even if I was willing to give it to you. Which I'm not."

"Anthon..."

"What are you going to do? Rat me out to the rest of you Fed friends?" Anthony mocked. "You're on thin ice with the company you keep as it is. Keep this up and no one is going to come within a hundred yards of you again and we're all going to be on the alert to hand you over to the authorities or worse the first minor slip up you make. Think about it, you really want a list of enemies longer than you are tall?"

Mozzie held back a flash of anger knowing that even in his state that physically going up against Anthony wouldn't end well. Desperate to get something out of the interaction Mozzie reached into his pocket and pulled out a small copy of the symbol that Hughes had shown him. Glancing at it Anthony automatically jerked back as he started breathing heavier.

"You've seen this before."

"No." Anthony lied.

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know, but I'm guessing if you don't know then you ain't meant to."

"Anthony…"

"Get out!" Anthony cried as his anger turned to fear. "I paid my debt, that's all I know."

"I have to help them."

"I'm not helping you, get out before you get us both killed."

"Please..."

"Caffrey and Burke can both rot in hell!" Anthony spat before he smiled cruelly. "Oh wait…they already are."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter twenty-six

With his palms pressed against the floor so that his index fingers and thumbs formed a diamond Neal poured all his focus into completing a long set of the variant pushups. Blood trickled down his arm from his shoulder as the exercise opened up one of the larger glass cuts that were struggling to heal. Although staying strong was important Neal was using the exertion more for his mental health than his physical state. It had been at least twenty-four hours since his fight, possibly even forty-eight, he'd lost track, but every time he closed his eyes or even just let his mind wander he had a vivid flash back of Marco's face breaking under his foot or the feel of the hot blood on his hands as he'd clawed at his opponent's already limited vision.

Mixed in with the revulsion of the violent memories were flashes of panic from the frantic claustrophobia of being nearly unable to escape Marco's crushing grasp. It didn't take more than the thought of Marco's arms around him to make it difficult for him to breath again. Neal's blood went cold as he kept remembering just how close he'd come to a gruesome death, all because he given his position away with an apology that had no chance of being accepted in the first place. He did appreciate that Peter hadn't bothered chastening him for the nearly fatal error, Neal had very quickly learned his lesson on his own.

Turning his thoughts to Peter Neal ended his pushups and sat back on his heels as he glanced down the short hall to the closed bathroom door. It had been at least twenty-minutes and the shower was still running. Neal feared that the water was just sound cover for Peter's anxious retching. Before he had retreated into the bathroom Peter had become noticeably short of breath with the kind of quick shallow cadence that Neal associated with having a panic attack. Neal hadn't bothered him with any pointless questions about if he was alright when Peter had suddenly gotten up and left. Peter was far too private about weakness to have answered with anything other than a lie. Since neither the question nor the answer would have done anything to make either one of them feel better Neal just let Peter cope in his own way.

Thinking about it more carefully Neal realized that neither one of them had really spoken much since the fight, and the fact that he was to blame further tightened the knot in his stomach. Neal deeply regretted rhetorically asking Peter about the point of surviving, the impact on Peter's morale had been devastating. Although he meant what he had said Neal hadn't meant to sound like he was ready to give up just yet. Not having an answer to the impossible question Peter had fallen into an introspective silence. Neal had been too consumed with his own shock at first to notice the change in Peter. Even once he had recovered from the tremors he'd found his heart too heavy to pull himself out of his non talkative mood, and he hadn't even thought about how the silence was adding to the weight of Peter's shoulders until now.

"Don't do that to him again, Neal." Neal chastised himself out loud to get himself talking. "Keep it to yourself, live through this first, worry about the rest later. We can't help each other if we don't help ourselves."

Determined to show Peter a more positive outlook for both their sakes Neal got to his feet and paced about to try and perk himself up. Neal figured the last thing Peter needed when he finally joined him again was to find him kneeling on the floor staring at nothing. Neal was just thinking about going over to the bathroom door and at least asking Peter if he was okay when an all too familiar sound send a chill down his spine. He had missed Jake's footsteps in the hall but there was no missing the way the key grated in the lock as it fought to turn the tumblers. Neal instinctively looked for an escape even though he knew there wasn't one as Jake opened the door.

"Hey, Caffrey." Jake greeted casually.

"Jake, no, please, not now." Neal said quietly hoping to keep Peter from knowing Jake was here to torment them. "Please leave me alone, I'm begging you."

"But I'm bored." Jake complained.

"That's not really my problem."

"I'm making it your problem." Jake chuckled. "Come on, I'm not going to hurt you. Promise. In fact I want to help you out."

"I've already experienced your particular brand of 'help', please, just give me another twenty-four hours, I'd take twelve even."

"Time is meaningless down here." Jake shrugged. "What does putting off the inevitable for a day buy you?"

"It's not for me." Neal said seriously. "It's for Peter, I don't think he can handle knowing I'm with you right now."

Jake made a show of looking past Neal to the closed bathroom door and the white noise of running water. For a moment Jake's expression gave Neal hope that he might actually show them some mercy.

"I'll tell you what, I'm a reasonable man." Jake said. "I'll give you half an hour, tell Peter you're feeling restless and you want to explore around again, then come find me. Deal?"

"Fine."

"Then it's a date."

Neal inwardly cringed at Jake's wording. Chuckling to himself Jake smiled brightly at Neal before winking suggestively and leaving. Neal still wasn't sure how to take Jake's odd behavior towards him. At times Jake seemed to genuinely want to make friends with him but at the same time he had no qualms about torturing him and in fact he appeared to enjoy it. His tone was often sexual but more mockingly than actually threatening, like the way teenage boys might tease one another. Giving up on trying to figure Jake and his motivations out right now Neal just waited for Peter to return so that he could lie to him about where he was going.

Jake had only been gone for a few minutes when the shower finally turned off. Peter stepped out with his hair wet and plastered to his skin. He looked exhausted and the red flushing across his cheeks and throat told Neal that he had been working hard to keep quiet while his stomach rebelled against him. Neal did his best not to give Peter a concerned look knowing it would only make Peter feel worse. Clearly having the same thought Peter was working on not looking at Neal with as much concern as he obviously felt. Neal sighed quietly, he wanted to break this uneasy silence that had shrouded them lately but he wasn't sure what to say.

"Peter, we…" Neal trailed off.

"I know." Peter managed a slight smile. "We need to stop being so quiet."

"Exactly." Neal agreed in relief. "I know I started it."

"It's fine, Neal, it was a perfectly valid question."

"well, I haven't done anything I can't live with just yet." Neal smiled.

"We're going to keep it that way." Peter said seriously. "You have every right to defend yourself."

"I know." Neal nodded.

"Good. I guess I should show you some basics on getting out of holds, I have to admit it's not one of my strong point. It's not something I've had to do since the Academy."

"Actually, I'm feeling a little cooped up right now. I was thinking I'd do a quick circuit of the tunnels, there's an entire abandoned section I didn't go into last time. I won't be gone too long, you can get some rest and show me when I get back."

Despite his best efforts Neal got the distinct feeling that Peter hadn't bought a word of his excuse to step out of the room. Peter tilted his head to the side and stared past Neal at the door much in the same way Jake had just done in the other direction. Peter took a breath to protest but thought better of it. Nodding his acquiescence Peter just stood in the archway that lead into the short hall motionlessly. Neal hesitated to make his next move, hating to leave with what he felt was a transparent lie between them but also not really wanting to talk about the truth of what he was about to do. Resolving to just leave and get his 'date' with Jake over with Neal headed for the door only to find Peter following him.

"Peter, please I have…"

"I need to lock the door behind you." Peter interrupted.

"Oh, right."

Neal forced a smile as he opened the door. Neal's slip had cost Peter some of his willpower to just let Neal leave unquestioned as his suspicions were confirmed. Neal could see that Peter was suddenly working on overdrive trying to figure out a way to stop him. With a genuine warm smile Neal put his hand on Peter's shoulder to silently let him know that he didn't have to find a way to fix this, it was good enough that he didn't want him to go.

"I'll be back."

"...I'll be here."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Sorry for the looong wait. My life got very suddenly very busy! And this chapter was very difficult to write, Jake is kinda insane and not as easy to work with as Peter and Neal. Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-seven

With his back pressed against the cold concrete wall Jake smiled to himself when he heard Neal's footsteps coming down the hallway. It had been a bit of a gamble that he'd know to come down this way but it was towards the room where they had shared a drink and Jake had figured that Neal would be smart enough to come looking for him there first. Hiding just on the near side of the intersection that Neal was about to cross Jake held his breath as he froze in place. Human sight was alerted by motion and Jake was banking on Neal being more focused on other things to notice the ambush.

Preoccupied with his destination and what was going to happen when he reached it Neal stepped right through the intersection. Like a lion hiding in the tall grass Jake attacked Neal from behind. Not wanting to alert anyone who might be within ear shot even though this section of the tunnels tended to be abandoned Jake reached around and clamped his hand down over Neal's mouth and used the hold to yank Neal closer. Quickly snatching Neal's right wrist Jake pulled it behind Neal's back in a classic police hold. When Neal tried to pull away Jake just jerked up on his wrist to subdue him.

"You aren't nearly careful enough to be wandering these halls." Jake purred into Neal's ear. "I don't think I need to explain to you what would happen if Sawyer caught you like this, or anyone else for that matter. I'm disgusted by rape, but not everyone down here is."

Neal angrily growled unintelligibly under Jake's hand at his odd set of morals before trying to free himself again. The way Neal simply leaned forward gave Jake the impression that Neal expected him to just release him. Annoyed by the assumption Jake tightened his grip. Neal made an irritated noise of protest and pointlessly tried to elbow Jake in the ribs with his free arm, but he didn't have enough leverage in the position he was in to cause any real damage.

"You're missing the obvious move here which is to bite me." Jake chuckled.

Neal shook his head slightly in Jake's grip to show that he had thought about that option and already ruled it out.

"Good point." Jake nodded. "You're worried about what I'd do to you if you chomped down on my hand. You're right, I'd probably break your shoulder out of sheer spite. Shoulders are so poorly put together in the first place, it doesn't take much pressure in a vulnerable position to tear them apart."

Neal whimpered in pain as Jake jerked up on his wrist to illustrate his point about how easy it would be to separate his shoulder. Having fun Jake pulled Neal closer against his chest and spent a moment enjoying the way Neal's hot panicked breath rushed across the back of his hand. Being at York's constant mercy had amplified Jake's own desire to control and the terrified heaving of his prey's chest gave him a chance to feel powerful even if it was just an illusion.

"Okay, enough fooling around." Jake said in a business like tone. "It's instinct to try and use your free arm to defend yourself, but that just opens you up to painful retribution. What you…"

Uninterested in Jake's lesson Neal suddenly tried to free him by twisting. Jake easily stopped his struggling by forcing his wrist up higher between his shoulder blades again.

"Relax, Caffrey, I'm trying to teach you something here. Just listen for a second."

Neal snarled something that sounded like an swear but he did stop struggling to avoid having his should dislocated.

"That's better. Okay, so first shift all your weight onto your left foot." Jake continued using his grip on Neal to guide him into complying. "Good, now reach back with your right foot behind mine and yank me off my balance. When I start to fall I'll have to bring your arm down to catch myself, that's when you turn into my grip and slam your left fist into my ribs or side, either will work. Surprise me."

Jake waited a moment before rolling his eyes with a noise of frustration when Neal took the pacifist route and just peacefully accepted Jake's hold thinking that Jake would get bored and let him go. Although annoyed Jake smiled at Neal's ability to not completely lose himself to panic or anger the way most did, Jake rarely even attempted to teach any of his captives anything either because they were too dangerous to begin with or too terrified to even try. Neal was clever enough to be fun to play with but not hardened enough yet to pose any real threat. The way he had beaten Marco proved that he could do some damage if he wanted to but Jake was confident that all he'd have to do to defend himself against Neal if things got out of hand would be to put his hands up in momentary surrender.

Jake didn't over think his deep seeded need for human interaction in the dark loneliness of the Labyrinth or the fact that force wasn't the best way of going about getting it. He was just enjoying the game while it lasted knowing that his new toy wouldn't last more than a month or two down here. Jake knew it was pointless to make friends in this life, but he still found himself drawn to Neal anyway. Determined to get Neal to fight back Jake started to pull his wrist up again. Jake chuckled at Neal's stubbornness to give in despite the fact that he could feel him grinding his jaw under his hand to help bare the pain.

"I'm just going to keep hurting you till you at least try." Jake warned. "This trick might save your life in the ring one day."

Jake smiled as Neal sighed in defeat. He was a little slow to put his foot back which in a real life situation would have alerted Jake to his next move giving him time to stop him, but since this was just practice Jake allowed it. Once committed to the action Neal was a bit quicker as he swept Jake's leg out from underneath him. Jake kept his hold on Neal's wrist but did bring it down to steady himself. However when Neal turned to hit him in the ribs Jake released him and turned to the side causing Neal to strike the wall instead. Yelping in pain Neal recoiled back with his hand held protectively against his chest.

"That was really half hearted, Caffrey." Jake tisked.

"I did what you asked." Neal said sourly as he glared up at Jake. "What more do you want?"

"You pulled your punch," Jake pointed out "if you had really intended to hit me you would have just broken your hand. I just gave you a free shot and you didn't even really try to take it."

"I'm not looking to start a real fight with you, Jake, we both know how it would end."

"You are the definition of 'no fun'." Jake complained.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Neal asked plaintively. "Do you treat all your captives like this?"

"You're not my captive, you're York's." Jake corrected. "And don't worry, Caffrey, you're special. I don't even let the other branded wander the halls."

"Then why are you letting me do it?"

"Because I know as long as Burke is still alive that you'll always return to him and I won't have to go looking for you."

"There has to be something more to it than that." Neal said carefully. "You seem to have a genuine interest in me. Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's those pretty blue eyes of yours." Jake chuckled as he stepped into Neal's personal space while staring him down. "They remind me of the sky."

"Remind you?" Neal questioned as he backed himself up into the wall. "When was the last time you saw the sky?"

Jake's heart dropped into his stomach at the question not only because he realized he had just made a major slip with Neal but because he honestly didn't know the answer. Jake knew it had to have been years by now. After all the loyalty he'd shown York over the years he only every had one request, he knew that York would never set him free but he kept hoping that he'd grant him just a few minutes topside to see the sky one last time. So far every time he'd asked he'd earned a beating, but with literally nothing to lose he continued to beg just in case York decided to show him a little mercy one day.

"…Jake?" Neal asked hesitantly.

Having fallen silent Jake was still staring at the one splash of color in the mostly monotone world of the Labyrinth suddenly aware that they really were one of the reasons he kept seeking Neal out. There had been a time when Jake used to spend his time cutting both himself and his victims for a chance to see some bright color, but after a while he had grown weary of red. The expression in Neal's sapphire eyes slowly changed from fear to concern as Jake continued to be lost in both them and his own thoughts. Seeing the pity caused Jake's temper to flare and he responded by slamming his fist into Neal's side without warning. Gasping sharply Neal would have fallen to his knees if Jake hadn't been right there to push him up against the wall.

"Don't worry about why I'm interested in you, Caffrey, just be grateful that I am." Jake hissed darkly. "I'm the only thing between you and long slow torture by Sawyer's hand. At least in the ring you're free to fight back. Although if you apologize to another opponent and survive I'll personally assist Sawyer in making you scream until your voice literally fails you. No more asking questions about me either. Do you understand me?"

Still working on catching his breath from the painful blow to his side Neal just nodded. Smiling brightly Jake threw his arm over Neal's shoulder as though they were old friends.

"Let's find somewhere a little more private." Jake suggested cheerfully as he lead Neal away. "I'm going to teach you some moves so you don't end up stuck in a hold the way you did with Marco, you almost died and if you had York would have been livid with me. Whatever you did to piss York off it must have been serious, he's made it clear he wants you two suffer for a while."

"We didn't…we didn't do anything to York."

"You may not know what you did, but trust me you did something to him or else you wouldn't be down here."

"No, someone paid York to take us." Neal clarified.

"What?"

"York told us he was acting as a 'revenge proxy', I thought you knew that. Weren't you there when Peter and I were branded?"

"What did I say about asking questions?"

"I'm sorry, I just assumed…"

"Well don't, and stop apologizing. Seriously." Jake interrupted to change the subject away from the fact that he wasn't involved in new captive branding. "Besides, it doesn't make any difference why you're branded, you are and that's all that matters. No forgiveness, no second chances, innocent or not."

Neal fell into a contemplative silence that made Jake nervous. If anyone found out that he was branded as well he'd be a dead man in seconds. He had worked hard to earn York's trust enough to let him keep order down here and part of that effort was to kill the man who used to run the show along with everyone who had ever seen his marked chest. If Sawyer found out he was branded he would be free and clear to murder him, and he wouldn't hesitate to do so. Pushing the thought of being discovered out of his mind Jake forced Neal into the nearest empty room shoving him forward hard enough to send him to his hands and knees.

"Lesson one: when someone pushes you down roll over on your back and kick at their shin because if you don't…"

Still trying not to incite a fight Neal was simply trying to get back to his feet when Jake reached down and wrapped his arm around Neal's neck in a classic head lock. To his credit Neal was quick enough to get one hand around Jake's forearm allowing him some leverage to protect his throat. Keeping Neal bent over Jake brought him up into a half stand to remove some of the power in his legs. Neal struggle briefly but quickly realized he was trapped as Jake squeezed his throat tighter.

"Let me go!" Neal demanded.

"No one is ever just going to 'let you go', Caffrey." Jake rolled his eyes. "You have got to stop staying that, it's embarrassing."

"Jake…"

"Now what you want to do is…"

Before Jake could finish Neal used all his strength to punch Jake in the inner thigh. Surprised by the painful attack Jake loosened his hold and Neal twisted his way out of his grip. Neal instantly bolted for the door but when he put his hand on the doorknob he hesitated. Rubbing his leg Jake smiled brightly as Neal walked back over to him knowing that if he left he'd just be followed or worse that Jake would bring Peter into this.

"So you know that trick." Jake laughed ruefully. "Or was that just a lucky guess? Either way it looks like we are getting somewhere, that was the most painful strike you've landed on me so far."

"I don't want to hurt you." Neal said honestly. "Please, I don't want to do this."

"You should be thanking me, this is going to keep you alive."

"Peter can teach me anything I need to know. I don't need..."

"He can't give you real experience like I can. Think fast…"

Jake sprung at Neal and despite the warning he was able to grab him around the waist and drive him into the closed door. Jake grabbed Neal's wrists and lifted his arm up over his head as he stared into his eyes looking for a hint of anger or a flash of fear, Jake didn't really care which he just wanted to elicit a reaction. Jake would never admit it but there had been a time when he'd been just like Neal, reluctant to fight and wanting to hold onto the man he thought he was. Having failed to keep his own hands clean of blood he was determined to drag Neal down to his own level and show himself that no one spent any time in the Labyrinth without becoming tainted.

"Don't let me push you around like this, I know you can do better."

"Not giving into fighting you is how I do better." Neal replied. "You're not going to kill me so why should I play your game?"

"You're right, I'm not going to kill you, but that doesn't mean I won't hurt you."

Still taking the peaceful path Neal continued to let Jake pin him to the door, he knew from experience that whether or not he fought back the results were basically the same. Without a near lethal amount of alcohol in his blood like last time Neal was doing a better job at not losing his temper making him harder to goad into a true sparing match. Frustrated Jake tangled his hand into Neal hair and used the painful hold to throw Neal down, tripping his legs in the process to make sure he hit the floor. Having learned his lesson Neal rolled over on his back to face Jake but he didn't lash out.

"Jake…"

Neal was cut off as Jake sat down heavily on his stomach. Jake looked down at Neal and smiled cruelly as he came up with a new plan to break Neal of his passive restive ways. Physical assault didn't seem to be riling him up but Jake felt a physiological attack had a better chance of getting Neal to show his primal side and bring him down a peg or two.

"So, tell me about you." Jake said casually. "What did you do that got you hooked up with a Fed? Are you one of those criminals who's sorry for what you did? Or more sorry that you got caught?"

Uninterested in having this conversation Neal just stared up coldly at Jake. Sitting back on Neal's hips Jake pulled on Neal's hair again to get him to sit up as well before releasing him.

"Or…are you not even sorry you got caught? That's it isn't it?" Jake continued raising an eye-brow in amusement. "I bet you misbehave cause you want an authority figure to pay attention to you. You got daddy issues or something? Did he leave you and your momma before teaching you right and wrong?"

Having a nerve struck Neal showed his teeth like an angry wolf Neal as he pulled his fist back, and before he could stop himself brought it back hard to strike Jake. Jake turned his head to the side slightly to avoid having his nose broken but he allow Neal to hit him. He was curious if he'd do it again or if he'd recoil in horror at his loss of temper and apologize. Neal didn't apologize but he did stare at the bright red spot on Jake's cheek that was later going to develop into a bruise with a look of instant regret. Satisfied that he'd shown that Neal he wasn't so different than himself Jake smiled. Neal tensed and batted Jake's hand away when Jake reached out and ruffled his hair playfully.

"There's that fire again." Jake taunted. "Good job."

"Leave me alone." Neal begged wearily. "Please."

"You need to let go of the idea that you're some sort of saint who's above a little cathartic rage or even some justified self-defense." Jake advised as he got off Neal's hips and sat down in front of him. "We're all just animals, born for fight or flight. Flights not an options down here so you might as well see how hard you can fight. Come on, let's have some fun with this."

"This isn't fun for me, Jake." Neal said seriously. "This is life or death nightmare."

"No it isn't." Jake shrugged. "This is just your death, you're not making it out of here alive so don't even worry about it."

"So you're suggestion to me is to make my death a slow one?"

"A slow death is an interesting one, a lucky one, you get to explore who you really are."

"I already know who I am." Neal snarled.

"Really?" Jake asked doubtfully. "Before the other night did you think you were the kind of man capable of brutally blinding someone and crushing their face with your foot?"

Neal feel silent, turning visibly pale at the violent memory.

"Nothing brings out your true character quite like fighting for your life, whether it be against an enemy, the forces of nature or even a disease. As far as I'm concerned people who live charmed lives and die without warning are the unfortunate ones. They never get to learn what their full potential is. Admit it, you've already discovered a lot about yourself in just two fights."

"No." Neal said firmly. "Forcing someone to defend themselves doesn't tell you anything about who they are, it is just instinct to fight for your life at any cost."

"I strongly disagree, in fact now that I think about it I bet if it wasn't for Burke you would have let Marco kill you."

"What?"

"You might want to reconsider your relationship with him, he has more power over you than you know. If anyone down here is going to ruin you, it's going to be him. In fact it's too late, he already has. Burke is the one you should blame for what you're becoming, not me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your instinct wasn't to kick Marco in face, just the opposite, your instinct was to show mercy and hope you'd get in return. Foolish, but that's who you were and that's who you would have died as if Burke hadn't called out your name in that critical moment. He was the one who demanded that you use violence and you listened to him without thought. He sparked the killer in you, made you defend yourself with lethal force against your own better judgment."

"I...I didn't kill Marco." Neal said quickly with an uncertain tone in his voice showing he wasn't certain that Marco had lived.

"Only because of sheer luck. When you slammed your heel into his face you *knew* there was a high chance that he would die and you did it any way. And when the time comes you're going to do it again, and it's not going to take long before your new 'instinct' is to go straight for the throat and you can thank Burke for that. The hard part is over, you've proven that you're willing to kill, after this you'll find actually doing it rather anti-climatic."

"No. Never." Neal shook his head vehemently in denial. "I'm not a killer."

"No, not yet, but you're *well* past the point of no return. Now that you've taken that first step it's only a matter of time before you take the next one." Jake said deadly seriously. "Burke gave you that push, that last bit of strength you needed to survive at any cost, without it you'd be dead now but it also tainted you. There's no shame in it, there is a great thrill in being a life taker. Ask Burke, I know he's killed in the line of duty, I can smell the blood on him."

"Jake…"

"He saved your life, but it came at a cost that I can see the effects of already. In that one split second he fundamentally changed who you are."

"No..."

"Face it Neal, Burke took that killer instinct that's in his own heart and he gave it to you. And I'm willing to bet he's going to live just long enough to regret what he did to you."

"No, Peter was only trying to protect me."

"It doesn't matter what Peter's intentions were, that violence is now a part of you…forever."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-eight  
 _  
'I haven't done anything I can't live with yet.'_

Pacing in circles around the room waiting for Neal to return Peter couldn't help but to worry about the idea that it might not be long before Neal ended up doing something he truly regretted or at least until he attempted something along those lines. If Jake kept pressing him and toying with Neal like he wasn't dangerous it would only be a matter of time before he turned on him to stop the torment. Peter had no doubt that even caught off guard Jake would be able to defend himself against Neal, the question would be if tempers were raised high enough to make him do so with lethal force.

Peter hoped that Neal's fight with Marco taught Jake that Neal could fight back if cornered and make him think twice about it. Peter also felt that the fight might have taught Neal the exact same thing, which would be useful the next time he was in the ring. He hated the idea of Neal better accepting acting violently to defend himself, but without that confidence he wasn't going to survive much longer. The fight with Marco had been far too close a call and next time Neal probably wasn't going to have the advantage of an already disabled opponent. Although as terrifying as is it had been to watch Peter was proud of Neal's deep seeded belief that if he didn't hurt someone when he had the chance that they would show him the same mercy in return.

Even if it had almost gotten him killed it spoke volumes about Neal's character that he believed in nonviolence to the point where he had to be encouraged to fight back against a man who was actively looking to murder him. Neal had always spoken of never wanted to hurt anyone despite his criminal activities, now he had proof that he truly meant that. Peter knew from experience that it was impossible to tell what was actually inside your own soul until you were faced with a life or death situation that didn't leave time for thought, only action. For himself over a decade with the Agency hadn't taught Peter who he was until the moment that Adler had turned a gun on Neal. In that moment pure instinct had combined with training for a deadly combination. Three days after he had shot Adler when everything had had a chance to sink in he'd found himself squaring off against the Bureau's resident psychologist about it.

"You know staring at me silently isn't going to get this over with any faster, in fact it's really slowing the process down."

"Tell me what to say and I'll say it."

"That's not really how it works, Agent Burke." Dr Trisha Weber smiled. "You know I don't see you White Collar boys up here very often, but you're just like all the other Agents, strong, silent, and only wanting one thing: to get back to the job. Do you guys have some sort of contest to see who can get their psych clearance papers signed with the fewest words to the psychiatrist?"

"No. I just don't have anything to say."

"Really?" Dr. Weber raised a delicate eyebrow. "Nothing's bothering you?"

"Only the fact that I can't go back to work without your say so."

"You shot and killed a man." Weber pointed out.

"I did my job."

"And no one is questioning that, the inquiry showed you were completely justified to discharge your firearm at Adler."

"Then why can't I have it back?"

"Because you look mad enough to kick a cat." Weber answered simply.

"What?"

"I know you think you hide it well, and you do, but I can see how angry you are in your every motion, eye narrowed, shoulders tense, pursing your lips ever so slightly. I hope you don't play poker." Weber smiled but returned to being serious when Peter didn't smile in return. "It's easy to feel persecuted during an event like this, FBI has to scrutinize an Agent very closely every time he or she takes lethal action against a civilian. Just remember that no one blames the dog when he kills a wolf, only when he turns on a sheep and from everything I've read Adler was no sheep."

"I don't feel like anyone's blaming me for Adler's death." Peter said honestly.

"Not even yourself?"

"No. He was going to kill Neal and it's my job to protect him. Which is exactly what I did."

"It's more than you job, I know about you two. Neal is your friend, and you saved his life. ...so why aren't you okay with what happened?"

Wishing he was anywhere else doing anything else Peter just stared silently at the small woman who was standing in between him and getting back to his job. He had thought that he and Neal were becoming friends but since the fire at the warehouse and the supposed art that burned he wasn't so sure. Right now Adler was the furthest thing from his mind and Peter was tired of dealing with him. He had other far more pressing matters on his hands right now that he needed to get back to. This last step should be as simple as just saying he was sorry for killing Adler, but he wasn't sorry, not even close, and he didn't know how to lie about that. Even if Neal did steal the art Peter didn't regret defending his life, he just wanted to help him and his pathological need to steal but he didn't even know where to begin. At the same time there was one aspect of gunning down Adler that was tugging at the edge of Peter's thoughts.

"I'm not letting you go back to work until you tell me what you're thinking."

"Fine." Peter sighed. "It bothers me that it doesn't bother me. I killed someone and…nothing has changed. I haven't changed."

"What kind of changes were you expecting?"

"I don't know." Peter admitted in frustration. "I thought…I thought that if the day came when I had to kill someone in the line of duty that I would at least hesitate, but I didn't. Not even for a second. and I barely even looked at him when it was done. I just kicked the gun out of his slack grip and moved on with the case."

"Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"It means you're a good Agent."

"…thank you."

"But you already knew that." Weber continued. "You're more worried if that means that you're not a good person."

"Something like that."

"It's not an easy role, but the world needs guardians, Peter. You don't have to feel regret for taking a life when you did it to save one, in fact you should take pride in the fact that you're capable of making such a weighty decision in the split second that such things need to be decided."

Peter thought about Weber's take on the situation and nodded. He wasn't interesting in admitting out loud that he felt better having been given the validation, but he did. It hadn't surprised him that he had what it took to choose Neal's life over Adler's, it had just taken him off guard how naturally it had come to him to kill. Weber had done a good job reminding him that the seemingly barbaric instinct could be a positive trait as long as it was used to keep himself and his team safe. Taking a deep breath Peter relaxed slightly as he looked across the desk at the slight smile of triumph on the psychologist's face, having clearly reading his thought process.

"Are we done here?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Almost." Weber assured. "One last thing. I can understand why all of this would upset you, but I don't see how it would make you angry. Where is the anger coming from?"

Peter tensed again as a chill washed over his blood. When Weber took obvious note of his tension Peter cursed himself under his breath knowing that he wasn't getting out of here without one last confession.

"Peter?"

"I think Neal stole that treasure."

"Ah." Weber nodded in revelation. "Do you want to talk about that?"

"No." Peter said firmly.

Weber looked Peter over for a moment as she tried to figure out the best way to get him talking again. Peter took a breath to tell her not to waste her time when she suddenly flashed him a sad sympathetic smile that stopped him. Leaning forward she picked the pen up off her desk and signed the paper that had been sitting in front of her with the quick hand of a doctor who was used to scrawling out their signature a hundred times a day. She lifted up the standard form and offered it to Peter.

"You're clearing me?" Peter asked surprised as he took the page.

"I am." Weber nodded. "I know how time sensitive cases like this can be."

"What?"

"It's your job catch thieves, if your CI is a thief then it's your job to arrest him next."

"I don't want to have to go after Neal." Peter admitted.

"But you're going to."

"I am."

"Which is why I'm clearing you."

"Thank you." Peter sighed.

"Good luck out there, Agent." Weber said sincerely. "My door is always open, even though I know you're never going to use it."

The psychiatrist had been right and Peter hadn't stepped through her door again even though there were several times that he should have. Thinking back to Adler and everything that had happened with the treasure afterward brought Peter's mind sharply to one thought: the nauseating shock of having Elizabeth taken when Keller learned Neal had what he wanted. Peter had long since given up on his anger at Neal for hiding the art, but he still couldn't think about those hours with Elizabeth gone without anxiety. It was the hardest thing he'd ever been through, and he included his current situation in the list. She had been gone less than a day and Keller had contacted him with proof of life within hours, he on the other hand had been gone for weeks now and he doubted anyone had been in contact with her or the FBI to taught them with any hope that he was still alive.

Growing more agitated Peter tried to turn his thoughts away from the mental torment Elizabeth must be going through right now and instead focused on what he was going to do about it. Having been heavily concussed before Peter had known he wouldn't be able to do any good out in the tunnels, he would have just quickly gotten turned around and lost on his own and would have slowed Neal down if they'd gone together. Feeling more himself again Peter had a new plan. He didn't have the skill to pick the lock in the room where Jake disposed of his bodies, but the lock might respond to brute force. He hadn't been able to put his shoulder into it with Jake right outside, but he could try it now. He honestly wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of going back to try it until now but he decided not to dwell on it.

Having a plan in mind took some of the edge off of waiting for Neal to return, he just hoped that when he did he'd be in good enough shape to try a break out, and not drunk to the point of poisoning like last time. Peter hadn't wanted to let Neal go, but he didn't really have any good alternatives at the time. As much as he appreciated Neal trying to hide what he was doing it hadn't fooled him for a second, but there had been no sense in arguing or even calling him out on it. Peter wasn't sure how Neal talked Jake to play along with the secret as well, but it was a good sign that Jake was still interested in making friends and that hopefully he wasn't playing too rough. Peter wanted to believe Neal when he said that Jake wasn't a sexual predator, but he still had his doubts.

"You can do this, Neal," Peter said out loud to help himself believe it "whatever it takes, just survive…we will worry about putting the pieces back together again when we're home."

Jarring at the sound of his own voice Peter realized that he wasn't making a whole lot of sense talking to himself and that his thoughts were stepping over one another as he bounced from topic to topic, but he didn't care because at least he wasn't feeling completely hopeless at the moment. Not wanting to inspect his own sanity too closely right now Peter just allowed himself to continue pacing in the loose circle he'd been stuck in since Neal left. Working off the nervous energy was helping him keep himself from heading out and trying to find Neal right now to attempt a rescue that probably wouldn't go well. Jake was armed with that metal baton that he'd shown a high level of skill with and he was more likely to kill them both before letting Peter take Neal away from him.

Since telling Neal his theory that Jake was a prisoner as well Peter had started second guessing himself on that idea and either way starting a confrontation with Jake wasn't going to help, he was the closest thing they had down here to an ally. Peter shook his head at the thought of Jake as an ally and started to wonder if he was projecting the idea that Jake was a victim as well just to reconcile his cruelty in his own mind. It was much easier to accept the idea that Jake for all his interest in Neal wasn't helping them because he couldn't and not because he was just sadistic.

Reminded of how Jake had told him point blank how much he enjoyed inflicting pain Peter's imagination turned back to Neal's current situation. Returning to a trick that had worked last time, even if just temporarily, Peter dug his nails into the bite wound in his arm to use the pain as a distraction. He knew that the self-mutilating behavior was unhealthy, as was his repetitive pacing, but for the moment both actions were helping him cope. His momentary light heartedness at having a semblance of a plan was fading fast as he became more concerned over the time it was taking for Neal to return. Feeling the wolves nip at the heels of his sanity once again Peter took a deep breath, but it did little to help. Right now he just needed Neal to come back, he needed to know that he was at least physically okay even if he was a psychological wreck. So far Jake had proven to be a greater threat to Neal's psyche than his body but after seeing what Jake had done to Miller Peter was terrified that he might turn more traditionally violent against Neal at any moment.

"...or he already has."

Peter had just lost his resolve to not attempt to hunt down Jake and Neal when there was a rhythmic knocking at the door. Racing over Peter unlocked and opened the door before he realized that he should have at least attempted to check for a trap. Relief washed over him to find Neal standing in the doorway on his own two feet. He looked liked he'd picked a fight with an entire bar and lost, but he'd looked that way for days and it was getting increasingly difficult for Peter to keep track of which wounds were accounted for and which ones were new.

Neal had an understandably anxious expression when Peter first opened the door but much to Peter's surprise when Neal caught sight of him his face brightened with a genuine smile. Not expecting to find Neal in anything that even remotely resembled high spirits the disconnect between Peter's expectations and reality caused him to instantly mistrust what he was seeing and fear the worst. Already off balance mentally Peter found himself completely frozen in shock when Neal stepped up to him and threw his arms around him in a warm embrace like friends reconnecting after years rather than just an hour. Peter knew Neal was not typically one to display affection this way, at least not towards him, and rather than being comforted by it concerned him further. Neal didn't hold on to him long and when he took a step back Peter studied his blue eyes to see if one of the pupils was dilated more than the other, but they seemed normal.

"Thank you, Peter." Neal said warmly.

"For what?"

"Everything."

"Jake hit you on the head, didn't he?" Peter asked critically.

"No, well, yes," Neal corrected "but that's not what this is about."

"What is it about?"

"I'll tell you along the way."

"The way?" Peter repeated still trying to regain his footing.

"I thought we'd test out that door past the corpses together." Neal suggested cheerfully.

"Actually," Peter furrowed his brow at the coincidence "that was exactly what I was going to suggest. Depending on which way the door is hinged we might be able to break…"

"I have a better idea." Neal interrupted.

Reaching into his pocket Neal beamed proudly as he held up the ring of mismatched keys that he had lifted from Jake. Seeing the keys Peter's heart lept hopefully, he knew there might be severe consequences to Neal's little heist if the keys turned out to be a dead end but it was worth the risk at this point. Peter wasn't sure what had happened with Jake, but it was more than he could have hoped for that Neal had returned more himself than he'd been in weeks. Peter needed Neal's blind optimists and 'leaping before looking' ways more than ever before right now. Before he even realized what he was doing Peter dragged Neal into a bear hug. Neal chuckled as he tried and failed to escape the sudden affection. Peter laughed at Neal's protest as he released him.

"Thank you, Neal."

"For the keys? Good, because I was a little worried that you'd be upse..."

"No, for everything."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-nine

Walking down the dank hallway Neal flipped through the ring of keys that he had swiped from Jake while he depended on Peter to both guide the way and keep an eye out for Sawyer. Thinking about Sawyer Neal realized that he actually hadn't come to taunted them in several days, which wasn't like him. Deciding to be grateful for the break Neal turned his attention back to the keys he'd stolen. Under normal circumstances he would expect Jake to notice them gone almost instantly, but when he'd left Jake he was slugging vodka straight from the bottle looking like he intended to finish it.

Jake had invited him to join him in a drink, but thankfully he hadn't made it mandatory the way he had the first time. Neal had been able to get away by muttering something dark about having to think about what he'd said about Peter. Far from wanting to sulk alone Neal had rushed back to Peter knowing that he would be sick with worry and frustration. It went against all of Peter's instincts and personality to not be able to be in a position where he could act as a defender and be in charge. Neal had started to worry about Peter's mental state as the strain of feeling helpless got more powerful, but glancing over at him now Neal found that he was watching him with an expectant look and a trace of a smile.

"What?" Neal chuckled.

"I didn't think you were going to come back from Jake in one piece, let alone in a good mood. What happened?"

"Jake was working over time to drive a wedge between you and I, but it only did the opposite." Neal explained. "He made a surprisingly compelling argument on why I should blame you for what I did to Marco, and he's right, I *could* resent you for everything that's happening, but I don't. The idea that any of this is your fault or that you're somehow turning me into heartless killer never crossed my mind."

"I'm just trying to protect you."

"I know." Neal smiled warmly. "You're not a killer, not the way Jake was trying to paint you, and you're not making me one. I wanted to make sure you knew that I knew that."

"Thank you. I have been worried about that. I hate to encourage you to be violent...I hate to encourage it in myself."

"It's okay, I understand. The world needs guardians."

"That's exactly what doctor Web…wait…did you read my psychology file?"

"No." Neal replied a little too quickly.

"No, of course you didn't, she wouldn't have written down what she said." Peter huffed in sudden irritation. "You must have listened to it."

"Peter…"

"Are you insane?" Peter demanded. "You bugged the psychiatrist's office at the FBI?"

"No, absolutely not. I promise." Neal held his hands up in peacefully surrender. "But Dr. Weber does record all her sessions."

"What?"

"It's in the fine print of the patient agreement you sign before you see her."

"Neal…" Peter growled.

"I was worried about you after Adler," Neal explained innocently "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You could have just asked me."

"I don't know how you remember those next few months after Adler, but you and I were not on great terms." Neal pointed out. "I didn't exactly have your trust."

"You didn't exactly deserve it."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I didn't care."

"You should have just come to me from the start."

"And how would that conversation have gone?" Neal asked seriously. "'Hey, Peter, are you okay with having murdered someone for me even though you're convinced I'm guilty, oh and by the way I kinda am guilty.'."

"I didn't murder Adler, I killed him. There's a difference."

"Absolutely. I'm sorry. I was just trying to make a point." Neal apologized genuinely as the conversation continued to spiral. "It all happened so quickly and things between us became so strained that I never got a chance to talk to you about it. Please, just…I felt terrible about everything, it was tearing me apart."

"I know." Peter replied as his expression softened.

"Particularly Adler. I just didn't know what to say. I suppose 'thank you' might have been a start."

"...your welcome."

"So…all is forgiven?" Neal asked hopefully.

"I forgave you for all that long ago Neal."

"I know, but I still like to hear it." Neal chuckled as he flipped through the keys in his hands to help change the subject. "On a different note I'm starting to believe your theory more and more about Jake being a prisoner."

"Really? Because I've been leaning away from that."

"Well, this key ring tells me a story."

"How so?"

"There are a lot of duplicate keys on here, and non-door keys."

"Non-door?"

"Bike lock, safety deposit box, padlock, old car key, I think this one goes to a child's diary." Neal named the key types off as he held them up. "There are a few keys to doors on here, but mostly this is just a collection of the one thing that makes Jake feel like he has a chance at freedom."

"Or something that helps him maintain the illusion of power." Peter added.

"Yeah." Neal agreed with a quiet sigh.

"Neal?"

"It's nothing, well it's not nothing, but…" Neal trailed off in frustration. "I don't want to feel sorry for Jake."

"But…" Peter pressed.

"He said a few things that were out of place. Whether he works for York or if he really is a prisoner down here, either way I think it's been a very, very long time since Jake's seen daylight."

"That's a horrible thought, but could work to our advantage if we could get him to believe that we can help him get out. On the other hand if he is a prisoner these keys aren't going to be useful."

"Even a negative can be a useful result." Neal pointed out.

"If none of these keys open the door beyond the bodies there's a good chance it's a way out."

"Exactly. It might be better for us if none of these fit."

"Only one way to find out."

Neal flashed Peter a concerned look at the heaviness his tone had suddenly taken. Squaring his shoulders as though he was preparing for a fight Peter picked up his pace to take the lead and guide Neal the rest of the way to the long corridor that held the makeshift graveyard at the end of it. Neal hadn't forgotten that Peter had been back to this room without him and why he had been there, but he had underestimated how much it had effected Peter to have handled Jake's last victim. Peter had been shaken when he'd first returned but Neal had thought he'd gotten past it. Seeing him now Neal realized that he'd simply gotten better at hiding it.

The noxious scent of decay had been powerful the first time Neal had been down the hall but it was ten fold now. By the time they got within ten feet of the door Neal's eyes were watering and it was all he could do to keep from retching. The muscles in Peter's throat were starkly defined from the way he was clenching his jaw to keep his own stomach under control. Wanting to get this over with quickly Neal went to step in front of Peter to get to the door but Peter put his hand on Neal's chest to stop him.

"Give me the keys." Peter ordered as he held out his hand "Stay here."

"What? No, I…"

"This isn't up for debate, Neal." Peter said firmly. "I can handle this alone, I know how keys work. You're staying out here, I will come and get you if the door opens."

"Peter, if this is about the bodies I've seen them already."

"You haven't seen Miller." Peter replied grimly. "The others had decayed to a point where it was easier to mentally separate them from having been living. Miller's not like that yet, it's an image that I see every time I close my eyes."

"Peter…"

"I'm not going to let him haunt you too."

"You shouldn't have to go alone."

"I know I don't have to. I need to, more than that: I want to."

"What? Why?"

"I can't protect you from Jake, but I can protect you from this."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

"Hughes, I'm sorry, but it has to be done. It's been a month."

"Three weeks." Hughes corrected even though it was closer to three and a half. "I haven't given up on my Agent, Sir."

Assistant Director Andrews gave Hughes a sympathetic look as he planned his next words carefully. Hughes had always admired Andrews for his dedication to policy and procedure, but right now the last thing Reese wanted to hear from his boss was that it was time to return to 'business as usual'. As it was Reese did know that his team was in trouble. With the chaos surrounding Peter and Neal's mysterious violent disappearance the White Collar division's case solve rate had nose dived and moral was in tatters. Standing in Reese's office Andrews glanced over his shoulder, the door was closed but the glass wall gave the bull pen a full view of the meeting. Every one in the White Collar office had been watching the pair, but hurriedly pretending to mind their own business when the Assistant Director had looked their way. Turning back to Hughes Andrews sighed slightly before continuing.

"I'm not asking you to give up on Burke, he's one of us and his case will remain a priority until we have answers. However I still need you and this office to do your jobs, and you can't do that with your staff in the state it's in."

"Director…"

"If you can't rebuild your team I will do it for you." Andrews said in a tone that left no room for argument. "I would rather you do it, but I will understand if you'd rather leave it to me."

"No, Sir."

"Good." Andrews nodded. "I'm sorry to put you in this position, I really am. It's always difficult to lose an Agent, but even harder when things are left as open and uncertain as they are now."

"We're going to find Peter and Caffrey," Reese said with more conviction than he felt. "we are going to catch the people who did this."

"I certainly hope so." Andrews replied sounding less hopeful. "Speaking of which, the surveillance you have on this Anthony Ladderack…"

"I have a warrant." Hughes interrupted guiltily.

"Yeah, I read it, wet tissue paper isn't as thin." Andrews said unimpressed. "What's made you suspect this guy has anything to do with this, from what I can tell he's just a low level thief. He's never even been investigated by the FBI and his police record makes for fairly dull reading."

"I…uh…have an informant that tipped me off to him." Hughes answered evasively.

"I'm sure you do." Andrews said drily clearly knowing who it was. "Is this informant on the books?"

"Not exactly."

"Make that happen or you might just end up costing Judge Halloway and yourself your jobs. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Andrews heard the defeated tone in Hughes' voice and his expression softened once more. Andrews leaned forward as he put his palms on Hughes' desk and lowered his voice.

"Reese, you know none of this is your fault." Andrews said gently.

"I should have found something by now. People don't just disappear."

"There is an entire room in the basement full of files that say otherwise."

"I should have noticed he was missing sooner." Reese countered.

"You trusted your Agent to take care of himself, there is nothing wrong with that, it means you were a good team. But that's neither here nor there, a few hours lead time wouldn't have helped." Andrews assured. "Whoever did this were professionals."

"All the more reason to catch them."

"I agree, but this isn't a White Collar crime. ...which leads me to the other reason why I came down here."

"David, no…please don't take this case from me."

"You'll be kept 100% in the loop, but I'm making Agent Walsh of Violent Crimes lead. He's been part of the investigation since the start and he's one of the best."

"I…"

"Don't do something stupid like resign over this, Reese." Andrews interrupted. "You and I both know that's not what Burke would have wanted."

Hughes sighed in frustration, not trusting himself not to cuss out his Assistant Director if he tried to speak right now he just kept quiet. He knew Andrews was only doing his job, but it wasn't making things any easier. Hughes hoped that Andrews would just leave and for a moment it felt like he was going to, but he hesitated.

"Sir?"

"One last thing, I noticed that Burke's wife hasn't applied to claim any of his benefits. She knows that he doesn't have to be legally declared dead for her to be eligible for assistance, right?"

"She knows."

"I understand her hesitation, I'm sure it makes his absence all the more real, but she still has bills to pay. Go talk to her again, let her know the FBI is going to take care of her but we can only do that if she lets us."

"Elizabeth doesn't want us to take care of her she wants us to find her husband."

"We can't always get what we want."

"You think he's dead don't you?" Reese accused.

"…I do."

Reese's blood chilled hearing the confidence in Andrews' voice. Andrews took a breath to apologize but instead he just showed himself out of Reese's office to go back upstairs. With the Assistant Director gone Reese stared at his desk for a moment before he got to his feet and found himself staring out over the city instead.

"Where the hell are you, Peter?"

Rubbing the back of his head in frustration Reese turned away from the window. Stepping out of his office with a purposeful stride he went to the rail that separated the two-tiered office space. He looked over at Peter's office that remained untouched since the initial run through for evidence. Andrews was right, the team wasn't in any kind of state to be efficient. With his ASAC gone and Reese occupied with finding him there was a noticeable lack of leadership. It wasn't that he feared that anyone was slacking off, but it was impossible for them to be a good Agents and walk around on egg shells at the same time. They needed to know that things were going to normalize.

"Jones." Reese barked.

Sitting at his desk supposedly reading a file Jones jolted slightly and looked up with a guilty expression. Reese motioned for him to come upstairs before retreating back into his office. Jones looked to Diana who just gave him an helpless encouraging smile. Getting to his feet Jones smoothed out his tie and headed into Reese's office being sure to close the door behind himself.

"Jo..."

"Sir, if this is about the bar fight…"

"Bar fight?" Reese repeated in surprise.

"Never mind." Jones said trying to look innocent. "It's nothing. What do you need?"

"Don't attempt to pull a Caffrey on me, what bar fight?"

"I've…uh…I've been spending my after hours in some less than reputable establishments." Jones admitted.

"Hoping to over hear something about Peter?"

"Bad guys love to brag." Jones explained.

"And the fight?"

"I didn't start it."

"But you ended it." Reese guessed.

"I did."

"Of course you did." Reese couldn't help a slight smile. "Did you get caught by any law enforcement?"

"No, but you know how word gets around. Although apparently it hasn't."

"Okay, then we are going to ignore it."

"Really?" Jones asked surprised.

"Just this once." Reese said firmly "I understand why you did what you did, but you have to stop."

"Yes, Sir." Jones sighed.

"You need to set a better example for the others."

"I know."

"Particularly since I want to make you ASAC."

"What? No."

"I know you don't want a promotion this way, but Peter has been grooming you for the position in preparation for the day that I retire and he takes my place."

"But..."

"Please, Jones, accept this offer. If you don't I have to find someone from outside the department and I think that will be harder on everyone. I need you to step up, we need to get back on track. Your first assignment will be to add another team member to work the field with Diana."

"Sir, please, it's too soon to replace Peter." Jones said shaking his head. "I don't want..."

"This is a direct order from the Assistant Director."

"He doesn't know Peter the way we do, not to mention Caffrey, that's cat got ten lives." Jones insisted. "They'll keep each other alive until we find them. We just need more time."

"Jones…"

"We can hold the team together as it is until they're back."

"This goes beyond just finding Peter. I need someone at the helm for the months ahead and the foreseeable future in general."

"Sir…"

"Jones," Reese interrupted "I want you to know that I haven't given up on the idea of getting Peter and Caffrey back. However, without any ransom or demands there's only one reason they'd still be alive at this point."

Jones fell deadly silent, having had the same dark thought that Reese was having right now.

"Even if we found Peter today he's not going to be ready to be an Agent any time soon…or maybe even ever again."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-one

"Get away from him!"

The rat that Peter had just snarled at lifted its gory muzzle up from its macabre meal. Unafraid of the human it lifted up one paw and sniffed the air in Peter's direction in curiosity. Feeling like he deserved more respect from something that weighed less than a pound Peter made an aggressive move toward the rodent. Taking the hint the rat jumped down off the heap of corpses, splashing down in the sickly puddle that surrounded them. The large rodent scurried over to the door that Peter had come to try and open. The rat didn't need a key, he had his own way through as he simply forced his way under the door.

With his eyes watering from the horrific stench coming from Miller and the others Peter knew he shouldn't be wasting time chasing off rats but he couldn't just stand by and let Miller's body be more desecrated than it already was. The cool temperatures in the subterranean room had staved off the decomposition process somewhat but the reek was still like a physical force in the room. Swallowing hard to keep from gagging Peter focused on the door knowing that if he started retching now he might not be able to stop.

With Jake's key ring in hand Peter stepped up to the sturdy metal door being careful not to step in the gruesome slime that had leached across the floor. Going through the keys one at a time Peter was torn on whether or not he wanted one of them to work or not. Jake was too cowardly about being in this room alone for this to be a door he used often so if the door opened it most likely lead to nowhere. If it couldn't be opened by Jake's keys and Peter was right about him being a prisoner then the door had more chance of being a point of escape, but at the same time they'd still be no closer to opening it.

Getting to the last key Peter failed to get the lock to give. As much as he knew that could mean good news he desperately wanted to get through the door if for no other reason than to feel like he was making progress to freedom even if it inevitably failed. Narrowing his eyes in a mixture of frustration and contemplation Peter studied the door. It was hinged to swing away from him which was favorable for two reasons. The first good sign about the hinging was that the door was designed to be more difficult to break down from the other side, again hinting towards it being an exit since a secure underground location like this was probably designed to keep people out not lock them in. The other positive was that in the direction it swung it was technically possible to break it by force from this side.

"Of course anyone worth half their salt would have put a proper dead bolt and a metal strike plate in." Peter muttered to himself.

Knowing there was only one way to test the sturdiness of the door Peter took a step away from it. In the movies everyone seemed to run at doors shoulder first but the Academy had assured him that the only thing that move would accomplish was dislocating your shoulder. When opening a door by force the only real option was a well placed kick. Wishing he had his shoes Peter lashed out and kicked the door near the lock with as much force as he dared used. Peter cursed as the stubborn door lanced pain up his leg.

"Peter?" Neal asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Peter assured "don't come in here."

"Peter, don't try to kick that door in, you're just going to hurt yourself."

"Too late." Peter sighed.

Walking with a slight limp Peter stepped away from the locked door and back over to the one that Neal was waiting behind. Peter deeply appreciated Neal actually listening to him for once and staying put when asked instead of just pretending to agree and then doing whatever he wanted. At the same time when the situation was serious enough to keep Neal in line it meant the situation was grimly serious. Trying to keep a positive mind set about the failed attempt at the door Peter joined Neal out in the hall. Neal jerked back at the increased intensity of the rotting smell from Peter opening the door as he turned a few shades paler.

"Peter, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. The keys didn't work."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yes." Peter said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"I should try the keys."

"Neal, none of them fit."

"But did any of them *almost* fit?" Neal asked. "You'd be surprised how similar most keys are to one another, particularly if one company did all the locks down here."

"How does a key almost fitting help?"

"I might be able to shave it down so that it actually fits. It will take time and a lot of trial and error, but it might be our best shot since I don't know what the odds of me finding something I can make a lock pick out of down here are."

"Jake will notice a missing key, he won't let you keep it."

"He might, if he wants out of here too. He may have even let me take the keys hoping I'd do this. Plus nearly every door key on there has at least one duplicate, he might not even notice."

"If this is a collection then Jake knows every key by heart."

"Peter, I know you don't want me to see what's in that room…"

Neal trailed off as Peter reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat. Neal didn't press the issue knowing that Peter just needed a moment to come to terms with what needed to be done. Staring sorrowfully at Neal Peter raised up his hand that held the key ring and offered it to Neal. Taking the keys Neal took a deep breath and instantly regretted it as the odor drove deeper into his senses. Trying to shake it off Neal went to step around Peter but he put his arm out to stop him. Neal flashed him a confused look until Peter reached into his pock and pulled out one of the ties they used to block out the light when they slept.

"Peter, no, I need to see what I'm doing."

"I'll stand between you and Miller once we're in there and then we can take it off."

"You honestly don't think I can handle seeing him?"

"It's more about me not being able to handle you having to see him." Peter admitted.

"I'm not sure the logic of that tracks, but if this is what you need from me right now then okay."

"Thank you."

Rather than taking the tie himself Neal just tilted his head back slightly to let Peter know he could blind him. Peter hesitated for a moment but with a resigned sigh he reached up and placed the filthy silk tie over Neal's eyes and tied it behind his head. Neal had thought about pointing out that he could just close his eyes but not only did Peter seemed more comfortable with doing things this way but Neal was worried that morbid curiosity might get the better of him.

"You know under different circumstance this could be the start of some kinky fun." Neal teased.

"Not even in the strangest of parallel dimensions." Peter said firmly.

"I'm just kidding, helps me with my nerves."

"I know." Peter smiled. "Ready?"

"Not really, but let's go."

Neal couldn't see but he could certainly smell when Peter opened the door. It was amazing how used to the stench he'd become in the hallway, but the smell closer to the source was on a whole new level that he knew he'd never become desensitized to. For the first time Neal realized just how ridiculous all of the movies where people got surprised by dead bodies were. It didn't take visual confirmation to know what you were dealing with in real life as Neal fought to keep his empty stomach from rebelling on him.

Peter took Neal's elbow to help guide him through the small room. Neal hadn't thought that it was possible for the air to get any thicker but he was quickly proven wrong. By the time they reached the locked door Neal had his jaw clenched tightly as he choked for breath past the sticky odor of rot and decay. Peter positioned himself to block Neal's view and pulled the blindfold off. Before he could even think to stop himself Neal turned to look in Miller's direction, even though he couldn't see anything he flashed Peter a guilty look.

"Sorry."

"It's instinct, it's why I didn't just ask you to close your eyes."

"Thank you."

Peter just nodded in the direction of the lock to redirect Neal's focus. Turning to the door Neal started to go through the keys in search of one that could be modified. Coming to the third key Neal's heart leapt hopefully as he could feel several of the teeth brush against the pins in the lock even though the key couldn't turn all the way. Kneeling down in front of the lock Neal pull the key out and looked it over to memorize the shape before inserting it back into the lock. Despite his earlier protests of needing to see what he was doing Neal closed his eyes as he worked the key in the lock as he tried to visualize which of the teeth were working and which ones were grinding against the cylinder. He could only subtract from the key so if a tooth was too short that meant grinding the whole structure down to compensate, but he was confident that he could make this one work.

Excited by their first real break since they'd woken up in the bizarre underground prison went to look up at Peter to tell him the good news only to discover the hard way that tilting his head back when his stomach was on the verge of mutiny was not the right move. Bile jumped to the back of Neal's throat causing him to pitch forward in a violent fit of dry heaving. Keeping the key firmly in his grasp Neal battled to stop gagging but with each gasping breath he just brought the choking scent of death deeper into his lungs. Peter reached down and tried to haul Neal up to his feet to get him out of the room, but when that failed he simply wrapped one arm around his midsection and lifted him up.

Yelping between stomach convulsions Neal scrambled to get his feet underneath himself as Peter dragged him out of the room. Peter helped Neal half way down the hall away from the noxious fumes before putting him down. Sitting on the concrete floor Neal felt the edges of his consciousness starting to fade but he refused to pass out now. Managing a few deep breaths of the relatively clean air Neal looked up at Peter who was knelt down in front of him with his hand on Neal's shoulder and a concerned look painted across his bruised face.

"Are you okay?"

"Better than okay." Neal beamed as he held up the key. "This is it, Peter, this is key that's going to get us out of here."

"No, Neal, *you're* going to get us out of here." Peter smiled. "The key is just how you're going to do it."

"Only if you keep me alive long enough to get it done."

"What was that Latin phase you used before?"

"Si vales, valeo."

"I'm feeling strong right now."

"So am I."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-two

"Okay, Peter, I'm sorry, but I have to know…why does Sawyer hate you so much?"

"I arrested him."

"Yeah, you arrested me too." Neal pointed out. "You've arrested a lot of people, that doesn't make you moral enemies. It's something more than that. A nickle on the insid…"

"Don't talk like that." Peter interrupted.

"Sorry." Neal chuckled. "Five years in prison doesn't seem like it would be that big a deal to someone like Sawyer. He has violent career criminal written all over him."

"Being a criminal isn't a career." Peter said firmly.

"Peter." Neal rolled his eyes at Peter's elusiveness. "Come on, what happened with you and Sawyer?"

Walk back towards their room Peter didn't answer right away. Usually Neal would continue to press until he got the story but under the current circumstances he was willing to let it go if Peter didn't want to talk about it. He'd made his interest known and was waiting to see if Peter was willing to share. When Neal cut him some uncharacteristic slack Peter managed a slight smile.

"Sawyer's girlfriend conned me." Peter admitted.

"I knew there was a good story here." Neal smiled. "She must have been good, you're not easy to con."

"She came to me seven month pregnant and supposedly heavily battered."

"Supposedly?" Neal questioned.

"When all was said and done it turned out all of her bruising was done with special effects make-up."

"She was good."

"She played the part of a frightened victim so well." Peter said sadly. "She first approached me on the street timidly explaining that she had overhead me on the phone and asked if I was a cop. When I explained I was a Federal Agent she got nervous and apologized for bothering me, all the time looking around like she expected someone to attack her at any minute. She had applied regular make-up over the purple that she had put around her eye, but just enough so that once I was paying attention I could see the bad 'cover up'. Pretending to spook it was all I could do that day just to talk her into taking my card."

"And then you didn't hear from her for three days."

"Almost exactly, how…"

"Classic tactic." Neal explained. "Three days is just enough time for you to have stopped really thinking about her and yet still fresh enough in your memory that when she calls you feel guilty for having moved on with your life."

"Well it worked, I felt awful. She still didn't give me any names or even really ask for help, she was extremely skittish."

"So a long con?"

"I don't know the cut off for 'long con', but for three weeks this we went back and forth, she didn't really want to talk to me but she kept calling, we even met in person a few times in public settings. Each time she had more 'bruises' and she started to hint that she thought her boyfriend might be getting into more trouble. She never gave me enough detail to start a proper investigation, and despite my best efforts she wouldn't leave him or accept any kind of protection."

"That must have been frustrating for you." Neal said sympathetically.

"It was driving me insane. I didn't know what to do, I'd only been an Agent for a few years at the time. I wanted to help her but I couldn't get close enough."

"I assume you didn't bring anyone else in on the case to try and keep her comfortable."

"I told Hughes about her and he agreed that I needed to try and earn her trust on my own."

"So what happened?"

"After about a month she called me in the middle of the night in tears about her most recent beating and in the course of the conversation she finally gave me Sawyer's name. I spent an hour trying to coax her into leaving, I was willing to meet her anywhere, but she refused. Nothing I said could convince her to leave. I wanted to get her away from him before he killed her or her unborn child...so I broke protocol."

"You confronted Sawyer?" Neal asked surprised.

"No, getting into the middle of a 'domestic' was way outside my jurisdiction and I knew I'd probably just end up causing more harm than good if I physically tracked him down, but I did ask around the Violent Crimes office to see if Sawyer was on anyone's radar for anything and found that he was a suspect in three bank robberies over the past month and that they were closing in on him after the last one hadn't gone smoothly."

"And you told her that."

"I didn't even think about the connection between her opening up to me and the botched robbery being so close together. The next night when she called I told her that he was on our watch list, I was hoping that it would be the push she needed to leave him…and in a way it was."

"Of course, that's why she targeted you in the first place, she wanted an 'insider' to see if Sawyer was close to getting caught. She wanted to make sure she could get away with the money before that happened. That's cold."

"It was natural to believe that Sawyer was abusing her, but it was really the other way around. She had a tight psychological hold on Sawyer. Before he met her he had a host of lesser charges against him, mostly drunk and disorderlies, but she pushed him into escalating into more violent crime to 'provide' for her."

"So she left him when she heard the FBI was getting close?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "She knew she couldn't just leave him, he's the vengeful type."

"Clearly."

"She helped us catch him, she said she didn't have any evidence of the past robberies, but she gave us all the details of the next one. I took lead on the case because technically she was my CI. I pleaded with her to come in the morning that everything was happening and she said that she would only come in once we had arrested him. I believed her."

"Instead she took the money he'd already stolen and ran." Neal guessed.

"Nearly two hundred fifty thousand."

"Not a bad score."

"Luckily Hughes wasn't too upset at me for falling for her broken wing act."

"Anyone would have." Neal agreed. "How do you know he wasn't abusing her?"

"When we carried out the warrant on their apartment we found the special effects make-up and forensics on the computer showed she'd been researching how to apply it."

"Did you ever catch her?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "She vanished. Sawyer's not angry at me for arresting him, he's angry because he blames me for the fact that he never got to meet his child."

"Assuming it was his." Neal pointed out. "If she knew that kid wasn't going to come out looking like Sawyer she would have had even more reason to want to make sure that he was behind bars while she ran off with the real father."

"It doesn't matter," Peter sighed "he believes the child was his."

"I don't understand why he thinks this is all your fault, clearly she wanted to bolt. She's the one who set him up, not you."

"Sawyer doesn't see it that way. As far as he's concerned she did what she had to by leaving when he got arrested. Sawyer thinks I took something irreplaceable from him. I never worried about him coming after me in the real world, he's violent but not that stupid, but down here..." Peter trailed off not wanting to finish the chilling thought.

"I don't suppose you ever tried telling him what really happened?"

"No."

"Probably too late for that, I doubt he'd believe you now."

"I doubt he'd care. At this point he has another motive to kill me."

"What's that?"

"Bragging rights."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for continuing to enjoy what has become a *much* longer and more involved story than I ever planned. Hugs to you all!

Chapter Thirty-three

"Give me the keys."

"Jake's still going to know I'm the one who took them." Neal pointed out as he pulled the key ring out, keeping the one duplicate in his pocket.

"Meaning he's more likely to lash out at you if you have to get close enough to him to give them back." Peter pointed out as he took the key ring.

"I was really hoping that he would just be passed out from alcohol where I left him, he wouldn't have even known they were gone."

"Luck has not been on our side lately." Peter sighed. "Jake is either out looking for us right now or…"

Peter slowly pushed open the door to their room, he was fully expecting to find Jake waiting for them, and he was. Jake would have known that the first place they'd try would be the room with the corpses and if he had truly wanted to hunt them down he would have gone there, but Peter suspected that Jake didn't have the courage to go near that room unless he absolutely had to. Sitting on the wool blanket in the corner cross legged Jake looked up from the bottle of amber liquid in his hand that he had been staring vacantly at. Peter had worried that Jake would be in a rage at having his keys stolen, but he looked up at them with a bright smile like they were old friends getting together for a drink.

"Hello, Boys." Jake greeted warmly with a bit of a drunken slur. "How's Miller doing? I bet he's pretty ripe by now."

"Here." Peter said coldly as he stepped up to Jake and offered him the keys. "Get out."

"Keep 'em." Jake looked up at Peter and winked. "You're going to need them."

"What?"

"Help me up." Jake asked as he took a pull on the liquor bottle and held his free hand up for Peter to take.

When Peter made no move to assist him Jake rolled his eyes before struggling to get to his feet on his own. Once up he leaned back on the wall to steady himself. He closed his eyes for a moment looking like he was going to vomit. Not wanting him to make a mess out of the one luxury that they had been afforded Peter took Jake by the wrist and pulled him a few steps off the blanket.

"Thank you." Jake said as if Peter had somehow shown him a kindness.

"Just how drunk are you?" Peter demanded.

"Not as drunk as Sawyer."

"What?"

Jake looked Peter over for a moment before he switched his attention to Neal. Neal had moved close enough to help fight Jake if need be but from a prior promise to Peter he was keeping out of Jake's arm reach for now. Seeing the inebriated Jake focusing on Neal Peter moved back into Jake's line of sight. With the delayed reaction time that was typical of someone about to succumb to alcohol poisoning Jake jerked slightly as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Staying wary Peter wasn't sure he believed that Jake was as intoxicated as he acting. Jake reached out to put his hand on Peter's shoulder but Peter easily leaned away and Jake missed.

"Burke, can I have a word alone with you?" Jake asked.

"No."

"I really don't think you want him to hear this." Jake pressed as he lifted the bottle in Neal's general direction.

"We don't have any secrets," Peter replied even though he knew that wasn't even close to being true "anything you tell me I'm just going to tell him and vice versa."

"I take it you were just playing along with me during our last little chat?" Jake asked Neal directly.

"Pretty much." Neal shrugged. "You're not going to turn us on each other."

"You say that…" Jake said doubtfully.

"I do, and I mean it." Neal said firmly. "You want to make friends with me then you need to make friends with us."

"I never said I wanted to be friend, Caffrey, I said you interest me. Two very different concepts." Jake corrected defensively. "There's no sense in having friends down here anyway, they are just a weakness."

"I disagree."

"Do you think I could have ever gotten Burke to fight without you?" Jake asked seriously. "Would you be as easy to manipulate if I didn't have him to threaten?"

"Do you think either one of us would have lived this long without one another?" Neal countered.

Neal's question seemed to strike a cord with Jake as he looked to Peter with a look of sorrowful jealousy. Brushing off the moment Jake sneered at the pair before taking another long pull at the large bottle in his hand. Peter still wasn't convinced that Jake was fully intoxicated but his breath was strong enough to suggest that he was getting there.

"Jake," Peter said carefully "even if you're not looking for friendship I suspect you could at least use an ally."

"You're the one who needs an ally." Jake growled senselessly.

"We need each other, that's how an alliance works. Trust me, Jake, I want to help you just as much as I want you to help us."

"You really mean that, don't you?" Jake asked as his mood softened once more.

"Yes."

"Prove it."

"How?"

Jake didn't answer right away. He turned his slightly unfocused gaze on Neal once more and stared at him for a long minute as if he was hoping that Neal would get the hint and give them some privacy. When Neal stayed Jake sighed in defeat before reaching back and pulling the collapsible metal baton out of his back pocket. Peter had been doing his best to look non threatening when it looked like he might be getting somewhere with Jake but the instant saw the weapon he pulled his shoulders back aggressively. Jake snapped the baton out to its full length and with a well practiced hand flipped it in the air to catch it by the end so that he could offer the handle to Peter.

"Take it." Jake encouraged when Peter didn't reach out for it. "This isn't a trick, take it."

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth Peter closed his hand around the textured grip of the surprisingly heavy weapon. As crude a device as it was Peter had to admit that he felt better being armed again, he was so used to his gun being a part of him that its absence was palpable like the gnawing phantom pain that sometimes haunted patients after the loss of a limb. Jake watched Peter carefully, clearly half expecting him to use the weapon he'd just been given. When Peter didn't instantly turn on him Jake relaxed and smiled. Peter's stomach turned when he figured out that Jake hadn't handed him the weapon to test his trust, it was test of his resolve.

"This is about Sawyer." Peter stated rather than asked.

"Glad we're on the same page."

"We're not even reading the same book."

"Then let me catch you up: a few days ago I took a key away from Sawyer, it went to his liquor cabinet. He has some major alcohol problems."

"He's not the only one." Neal added drily.

"Guilty." Jake shrugged. "But I don't go into withdrawal the way Sawyer does, he doesn't have full blown DTs but it's still bad."

"DTs?" Neal asked.

"Delirium tremens." Peter clarified. "A severe acute withdrawal from alcohol causing confusion, tremors, and seizures."

"Not a lot of people realize that alcohol is one of the most dangerous drugs to withdraw from." Jake added taking a small sip at the bottle. "Anyway, Sawyer has spent the last three days locked away in his room away from his buddies shaking and generally feeling lousy. Tonight, just before Neal and I had our little mock heart to heart, I gave Sawyer his key back. By this time he will have drunk enough to pass out. You've got a key to his room, you've got a weapon, this is your one chance to defeat him."

"I'm not murdering Sawyer in his sleep."

"Well you're certainly not going to be able to take him on any other way." Jake said matter-of-factly. "Take a left out this door, second right, third left, down that hall the door and key both have a blue mark on them."

"No."

"Listen, Peter…"

"Don't call me that." Peter growled dangerously.

"Agent Burke," Jake corrected polity "I know what you're thinking, you think this is some kind of psychological torture game I'm playing, that this is just one of those cliches where I bait you into murder to prove that you're no better than I am."

"That's not what I'm thinking at all." Peter said seriously. "I think that Sawyer is a threat to you, and you're too afraid to take him on yourself so you're using me."

"Have no great love of Sawyer, but I'm not afraid of him."

"Then why not kill him yourself?"

"Because I don't own him the way I own *you*." Jake snarled as he punctuated his statement by reaching out and tapping on the bloody stain on Peter's shirt over his heart where his brand was still healing.

Peter narrowed his eyes at the painful strike but otherwise didn't react to Jake's claim of ownership. Neal kept a careful watch over the situation knowing that Jake could turn violent on Peter at any moment, but trusting that Peter knew what he was doing by pushing Jake like this. Glaring spitefully at Peter Jake looked on the edge of another mood swing.

"I could care less if you take advantage of this opportunity I'm handing you." Jake continued trying to sound casual despite his mounting frustration. "I'm just looking out for you and Caffrey, you saw what he did to Miller. I'd hate for you to have to carry Caff…"

"You murdered Miller." Peter interrupted icily.

A look of shock flashed over Jake's features as if Peter had just unexpectedly slapped him. An array of emotions quickly flittered through Jake's eyes from anger to guilt and fear. Neal was surprised when Jake looked to him as if he was expecting him to come to his defense in the matter. When Neal just stared back at him without any empathy Jake took a physical step back away from the pair. Dropping eye contact Jake's eyes tracked back and forth in nystagmus for a moment as he regrouped his thoughts.

Sorting through his insanity Jake eventually looked back up at Peter with a cruel smile that seemed to dropped the temperature of the room twenty degrees. He stepped back up to Peter and leaned in to bring his cheek parallel to Peter's, stopping just short of actually touching him. With Jake's alcohol soaked breath brushing against his skin Peter held his ground mentally and physically, knowing that backing down or even flinching now could be lethal. Jake's primal mentality only respected dominance as he worked to assert himself over his captives searching for weakness.

"Sooner or later you are going to have blood on your hands." Jake purred in Peter's ear. "The only question is who's it going to be? Sawyer's literal blood or Caffrey's figurative? If you don't do something about Sawyer Caffrey is going to pay the price one way or another. How do you think Neal is going to survive down here without you or vice versa for that matter?"

"Jake…"

"Sawyer is a clear and present threat to both of your lives, you have every right to defend yourself and your charge by neutralizing that threat. More than just a right: it's your responsibility… _Agent_."

Jake pressed the bottle of liquor against Peter's chest and he automatically reached up to take it. Having made his case Jake pushed past Peter and Neal as he stumbled slightly on his way to the door. The door slammed shut behind him and left the pair in a heavy silence. With Jake gone Peter stared down at the weapon in his hand and became lost in thought. Neal wasn't sure what Peter was thinking but from the deep crease that had developed in his brow it certainly couldn't be anything good. Before Neal could think of anything to say Peter suddenly lifted up the bottle and took a deep pull at the amber alcohol that Jake had given him.

"Peter?" Neal asked anxiously.

Coughing on the harsh liquid Peter offered the bottle to Neal without looking at him, knowing he wouldn't like the look of uneasy concerned he was being given. Neal took the bottle more to get it away from Peter than any desire to join him in it. Still not looking at Neal Peter took a deep breath and released it noisly the way he tended to when stressed. Turning around to face the door he had a glitter of determination in his dark eyes that Neal found more alarming than the wild look that often tinted Jake's expression.

"Peter…"

"Stay here." Peter ordered.

"What? No, Peter, no." Neal shook his head and step between Peter and the door. "You can't do this."

"I'm not going to kill Sawyer."

"Then why ar…"

"I'm going to break his leg."


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Sorry for the wait. Hugs to you all!

Chapter Thirty-four

"Focus, Elizabeth, you can do this."

Growling at herself did very little to help Elizabeth with the task at hand. When she found yet another error on the simple Excel spreadsheet she was trying to work on she ground her teeth as her temper flared. internally berating herself for the honest mistake Elizabeth became more determined to get this right. Unable to return to work planing celebrations for others Elizabeth was attempting to help Yvonne out by taking care of the cost estimates and invoicing. Back when her business had just been starting Elizabeth had done all of the financial side herself, and even though it had been years since she had done more than just look over and approve this type of work she knew she was more than capable of it.

Sitting at her kitchen table with a lap top and a sea of paperwork Elizabeth tried to distract herself from her loss with the numbers. An hour later she glanced up from the screen when she started to feel some eye strain only to find herself looking at the photo that used to sit on Peter's desk. Hughes had come over two nights ago to deliver it to her personally. At first the somber look of a guilty sorrow on his face had Elizabeth fearful that they had found Peter's body. When he had produced the photo she had relaxed slightly knowing that if he had proof of his Agent's death that he would have come bearing an American flag for the widow not a memento off his desk.

"I thought you would want this." Hughes said in a near apologetic tone. "The rest of his personal effects are technically in evidence, but I felt there was no harm in bringing this to you rather than letting it sit in a closet."

"Thank you, Reese, but…"

"Peter's case is still a top priority." Hughes reassured. "You know I won't rest until I find him."

"Thank you."

"Elizabeth, I'm sor…"

"Please don't apologize." Elizabeth interrupted. "This isn't your fault."

"I know, I just don't know what else to say."

"That's because there is nothing you can say, but I appreciate everything you've done."

"Of course." Hughes smiled warmly but he still looked uncomfortable.

"I'm not ready to active Peter's benefits if that's what that worried look is about."

"It is." Hughes confessed. "Life in New York isn't cheap."

"I'm fine, honestly. If I get in trouble I will come to you about it, I promise."

"Okay."

Elizabeth had been grateful that Hughes hadn't pushed the matter. She hadn't exactly been lying, she was keeping her head above water for now. However a few more mortgage payments and she was going to have to either ask for help or sell the house. Elizabeth had it in the back of her mind that if Peter wasn't home by the time she couldn't afford the house that she wouldn't even want it any more anyway. There were too many memories in the house that she didn't feel she could face on a daily basis if Peter never came back.

Taking her gaze off the photo of herself and Peter smiling in the silver frame that was now up on the island in the kitchen Elizabeth flipped through a few pages on the table without reading them. With her thoughts continuing to drift back to that night she felt a tinge of guilt. She had been so distressed to have Hughes suddenly on her doorstep that even after he hadn't had bad news she still neglected to invite him inside. He was still standing on her front step when Mozzie had arrived. She had suddenly thought to let them both in but Hughes had asked if he could have a private word with Mozzie. Mozzie had instantly been suspicious, but he allowed it.

Pretending to leave the men to talk Elizabeth had retreated inside and gone straight to her laptop. After Keller had kidnapped her Peter had installed a fairly sophisticated security system on the house that included both video and audio surveillance outside. Pulling up the program Elizabeth had spied on the conversation.

"Is this about Anthony?" Mozzie asked hopefully. "Did you get something out of him?"

"No, and from the looks of things I'm not going to."

"He's our only lead. What if…"

"Before we got any further I need you to take this." Hughes reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet to fish out a dollar bill which he offered to Mozzie.

"This…uh…this isn't what I think it is, is it?" Mozzie asked hesitantly not taking the money.

"I can't let you any closer to this case if you're not officially on the FBI payroll as a CI."

"Payrolls involve things like social security numbers…and taxes."

"Do you want Caffrey back or not?" Hughes growled.

"I want them both back." Mozzie said defensively. "…don't tell the Suit I said that."

"Well if you want to help this is what has to happen."

"I do have a Rain Day Alias that is nearly bullet proof that I could burn." Mozzie admitted. "Would that do?"

"I'll make it work."

"Fine." Mozzie took the dollar bill. "Call me Ishmael."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Ishmale Harrington."

"Whatever, just fill out all the appropriate forms and I'll make sure no one looks too closely at them." Hughes sighed. "Tomorrow come down to the Federal Building and I'll introduce you to Agent Walsh."

"Wait, what, who? Have they taken you off this case?"

"I'm still in the loop."

"You know that only people who are out of the loop are told that they are in the loop, right?" Mozzie pointed out. "Does Elizabeth know about this?"

"No, and I'd rather she didn't. Agent Walsh is the new lead, but that doesn't mean I'm off this case. I need you to work with Walsh to find the case that Caffrey brought Anthony in on. That case is our best lead since I get the feeling we are never going to get anything out of Anthony himself."

"He's far more afraid of whoever beat him senseless than he is of the FBI, but you're right whoever did attack him seems to have done so because of a case that he helped Neal out with and Anthony already basically told me that that same person is probably responsible for his and Peter's kidnapping."

"I assume that Neal wouldn't have done something smart like put Anthony's name in his report?"

"Ah, that would be a 'no'. His arrangement with Anthony was…well let's just say it's a gray area."

"I honestly don't care, I just need to know who actually got arrested so we can see if we can find any connection."

"Neal doesn't like to outright lie to Peter, there should be something in his report that reflects some kind of half truth about helping Anthony out that I should be able to find."

"Good. Find it."

Elizabeth hadn't blamed Hughes for not wanting to her to know that the FBI was floundering on the case and that it had been taken away from him. Closing the computer before Mozzie came inside she busied herself in the kitchen. Mozzie walked up to the island and stared at the picture of her and Peter. It took Elizabeth a moment to collect herself and turn to look at Mozzie. Unsure of what to say they ended up with an uncomfortable silence.

"I take it you heard all that?" Mozzie asked knowingly.

"What?" Elizabeth said trying to sound innocent.

"Elizabeth, I know about the security system. I installed it."

"You did?" Elizabeth asked surprised.

"Peter made me promise that I wouldn't tell you, you know how much he hates getting my help, but I figured it was the least I could do."

"Thank you. And thank Ishmael for me."

"He says he's honored to help."

As much as Elizabeth did appreciate Mozzie working so closely with the FBI to find Peter and Neal she knew it meant that both parties were desperate. Back in the present time Elizabeth realized she'd leafed through twenty pages of the wrong account. Losing her temper at not being able to do the simple task Elizabeth violently swiped the papers off the table sending them fluttering to the floor like birds with broken wings. Snarling at herself in frustration Elizabeth pushed herself away from the table. Satchmo, who was never more than a few feet away from her at all times these days, got to his feet and came over to put his head in her lap. Smiling down at the dog despite the tears in her eyes Elizabeth gratefully pet the top of his head.

"You're a good boy, Satchmo." Elizabeth praised.

Satchmo wagged the tip of his tail hesitantly sensing that something wasn't right despite Elizabeth's kind words. Getting to her feet Elizabeth paced around for a moment as she tried to figure out what to do with herself. With trying to work just adding to her frustration she knew she needed a break from it. It was near dinner time, but Mozzie had already called to say he was staying late with Agent Walsh and she really didn't feel like cooking for just herself. Feeling trapped she decided that taking Satchmo for a walk was the best thing right now despite the fact that it would be the sixth time that day that she had taken him out.

Walking over to the small table by the front door Elizabeth went to pick up her keys when she noticed the business card that Charles Walker from Light for the Lost had left with her. She really hadn't given the visit a second thought after Hughes had looked into the organization for her and found nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly feeling more alone than she had since this had all started Elizabeth stared at the card. There was one thing he had said to her that was resonating in her mind now.

'Your friends can only give you sympathy...what you need is empathy.'

Elizabeth wasn't even letting her friends offer he any sympathy these days. Other than Mozzie and the occasional visit from Hughes she had pushed everyone else away. Even when Hughes had tried to apologize she had stopped him, not because she didn't think he meant it but because it infuriated her to hear it. There was nothing about 'I'm sorry' that made her feel any better or any less alone.

Grabbing the car keys instead of Satchmo's leash Elizabeth stepped out of the house and headed towards the address embossed on the card. The meeting hall for Light for the Lost looked like an old converted church that had a small parking lot that was nearly full. Elizabeth found a space and sat in her car for nearly and hour undecided about going inside. When she finally got out and went up the wide set of stairs to the ornate wood double doors she jerked back in surprise when they suddenly opened. Elizabeth stepped to the side as a group of people stepped out all chatting with one another.

Several of the people leaving glanced in her direction and looked like they wanted to greet her but when she visibly shied away they all knew to give her her space. When they were gone Elizabeth decided that the most recent support group must be over and that she should just go home was well. Turning away from the building Elizabeth was at the bottom of the small set of wide stairs when she heard the door open again.

"Elizabeth, wait," a female voice called "please don't leave."

Hearing her name being used by a stranger flashed ice into Elizabeth's veins. Turing around she must have automatically put on a defensive pose because the slender dark skinned woman at the top of the stairs raised her hands up slightly in surrender. Unsure of what her next move should be Elizabeth found herself frozen at the foot of the stairs looking up at the woman outlined by the warm light coming from inside the building.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"How do you know my name?"

"Charles told me what he did, going to your house." She explained revealing a slight Southern twang. "I was absolutely livid at him, but he thought he was doing the right thing. You know men, they always want to fix problems even when those problems are not theirs to be fixing."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Asha, I'm the support group coordinator and meeting leader for Light for the Lost." Asha introduced herself. "The group just left, but please, come inside. I would love to talk with you. I know how difficult this first step is."

Elizabeth remained undecided, she was starting to wonder what had made her drive out here in the first place. As much as she felt alone she wasn't sure she was ready to become part of a whole new 'community' that was united solely by a common pain. Elizabeth wasn't used to asking for help from anyone other than Peter and now that she was here she couldn't help but feel that it was a betrayal, an admission that he wasn't coming back and that she needed to seek out new connections. Reading Elizabeth's every thought easily Asha smiled sadly and held her hand out in a silent offer for Elizabeth to step closer.

"I…shouldn't have come, I'm sorry…"

"Elizabeth, there is no shame in being here."

"I..."

"The people who disappear aren't the only ones who are lost…those of us left behind need help finding our way as well."


	35. Chapter 35

I'm sorry this isn't a chapter, but it is an update. I have been missing from the fan fic world for a few weeks because my husband needed emergency surgery for testicular cancer. Everything happened so fast and yet in slow motion all at the same time. It has been a very hard few weeks, however we were able to catch the cancer very quickly and it was still in Stage One. Our hope is that the surgery has removed all of the cancer, and it is very much looking that way. I'm sharing our story with as many people as I can because awareness is *key*. I've learned that many people do not know that this is a young man's cancer (most common ages 15-35, but can happen before or beyond this range). This is a very curable cancer, but the best outcome always comes when it is caught early before it gets a chance to spread, so forewarned is forearmed. This is true of all cancers, so boys and girls both please keep a sharp eye out and if something feels out of place do not hesitate to talk to your doctor. 

I will be continuing Labyrinth, however I need a little time to regroup before I can return to such a dark story. I won't leave the boys down in the depths of the New York underground forever, but they have been very understanding with me for making them wait. 

My love to everyone.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Okay everyone, my life is on more of an even keel these days. My husband is doing very well, catching this early was key! Hugs! So I'm tentatively starting up this story again. I hate to leave the boys in such a predicament forever. :) Thank you all for your kind words and support!

Chapter Thirty-five

"Peter, wait, please…"

"Go back to the room, Neal, you're not talking me out of this."

"Of course I am, this is insane!"

"Neal…"

"Peter, I know what you're thinking but please don't do this for me." Neal interrupted as he stepped into Peter's path to stop him. "We'll find another way."

"I can't take that chance."

"Peter," Neal pleaded "you can't brutally attack someone in their sleep. You will *never* forgive yourself."

"You think I don't know that?" Peter snarled.

Neal was brought up short by the icy anger in Peter's voice. Not wanting to debate his extreme plan of action Peter stepped around Neal and continued to stalk down the dark concrete hallway towards his unsuspecting prey. It took Neal a moment to try and think of a new tactic to prevent the assault, when he couldn't think of anything to say he simply caught up with Peter and put his hand on his shoulder to get his attention in hopes that something would come to him.

Keyed up on adrenaline and raw frustration at the situation he was in Peter jerked away from Neal and whipped around with Jake's metal baton held high. Neal automatically brought his arm up to defend himself but he didn't back away. With the weapon still raised Peter stared at Neal in horror at the fact that he'd even threatened to strike him. Neal quickly brought his arm down as Peter also lowered his weapon, he hadn't thought for a second that Peter would actually hurt him but it was instinct to shield himself. Peter didn't look like he was going to be so quick to forgive himself for the transgression as his dark eyes glittered with guilt.

"I...I'm sorry." Peter apologized sounding miserable.

"This isn't you, Peter, you're not a violent man."

"I know, which is why this is so difficult for me and you're not helping matters."

"I'm not trying to help matters, I'm trying to help you."

Peter took a breath to give Neal an angry retort however his temper cooled just as quickly as it had flared. Neal was getting increasingly concerned by Peter's emotional volatility but before he could mention anything a sorrowful smile touched the corner of Peter's lips as he suddenly reached out and carded his hand into Neal's hair gently. Neal wanted to argue his case further but fell he silent under the intense imploring look he was getting from his protective friend.

"Neal," Peter whispered in a eerily dead calm tone "this is our 'life or death' shot at Sawyer. I'm not asking you to condone this, I don't need or even want your permission, but please, I do want you understand it."

"I understand."

Coming as close to being forgiven as he felt he deserved Peter leaned forward and rested his forehead against Neal's. Closing his eyes he froze for a moment, looking for brief second of peace before stepping back out into the storm. Neal's stomach twisted painfully knowing that Peter was doing what he felt was best, not what he felt was right. Sawyer would easily kill either one of them in the ring, disabling him before he got that chance was their only real hope. As much as Neal hated to let this happen he admired the fact that Peter would rather tarnish his armor with Sawyer's blood than stand the moral high ground and risk getting them both killed. Fighting Peter on this further or even for faulting him for his actions wasn't going to help either one of them survive

After a full minute Peter still hadn't pulled away from Neal showing that he was having more of an internal struggle over this than he had been showing. Neal reached up and put his hand on Peter's shoulder in a show of support for whatever move he decided to take next. Finding new resolve Peter took a step back as he pulled his hand away. Pulling his shoulders back he turned to continue down the hall only to stop again when Neal followed.

"Neal, stop. Stay here."

"I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Peter…"

"There is nothing you could do in there other than get in the way."

"You shouldn't have to do this alone," Neal pointed out echoing an earlier argument they'd had outside the door where Miller's body was rotting "it's both of our lives on the line."

"Alright…if you want to do something for us then keep watch at the last intersection." Peter said giving in slightly. "I don't know where Sawyer's friends are and it would help to know which way is clear if they try to come help him. Can you do that?"

Neal just nodded. Peter nodded as well more grateful for the company than he wanted to admit. Walking at a quick pace it didn't take long to come to the intersection that he wanted Neal to guard. It was next to impossible to know what time it was without the metered rumble of the subway but the deathly stillness of everything made it feel like the uncomfortable hours between midnight and dawn. Neal just couldn't imagine the idea that above them the sun might actually be shining in a blue sky while they were on such a dark mission. Peter paused and looked down each corridor carefully before turning to the hallway with Sawyer's door, after allowing a stressed breath to hiss across his teeth he took a step forward.

"Peter, if you…"

"I will be right back," Peter interrupted "this won't take long."

"I hate everything about this."

"So do I."

To keep from losing his nerve Peter moved purposefully down the hall quickly. For the first time he was glad to be barefoot as it helped soften the sound of his foot steps. He passed two doors taking him further from Neal that he had thought he'd be before he came to a door with a slash of faded blue paint on it. Peter cursed under his breath when he realized that he had forgotten to figure out which key he needed before now. Taking the key ring out of his pocket it seemed to make an ungodly racket in the thick silence of the hall.

Finding the key with a torn blue sticker on it Peter took one last look over his shoulder to make sure Neal was ready. Catching Peter's eye Neal stepped forward to try to join him but Peter stopped him by shaking his head. Neal reluctantly returned to his post in the crossway. Tightening his grip on the heavy metal baton until his knuckles blanched Peter held his breath as he went to test out the key. There was always the chance that this was just Jake testing him and that no one was behind the door, but he felt it was more likely that Jake had been telling the truth. He had almost as much to gain from Sawyer being out of the picture as they did.

Getting the key into the lock wasn't as easy as it seemed as Peter found his hand shaking. Swallowing hard he demanded that his hand obey him and managed to grate the key into the lock. Peter cringed at the heavy clicking sound that the bolt made as he turned it and he prayed that Sawyer was as drunk as Jake had promised. Leaving the key in the lock Peter slowly turned the handle and cracked the door open revealing that unlike the room that he and Neal shared that perpetually had the lights on it was dark inside this one.

Peter waited a moment to see if there would be any sound from within the room but it was just as silent as the hall. Pushing the door open further allowed some of the light from the hall to penetrate into the room revealing the small amount of furniture that occupied it. Peter noted the small round wooden table off to the right with a half empty bottle of vodka sitting on it, but his real attention was focused on the messy heap of blankets on the bed in the vague shape of a man.

Still cautious Peter tried to determine if Sawyer was really sleeping there or if it was just a collection of fabric. It was too dark and far away to make any good guesses. Knowing he was going to have to get closer in any case Peter crept into the room. A quick powerful strike to the lower leg would effectively cripple Sawyer for the short term without giving him a life long debility, enough to keep him out of the ring for at least a few months. Peter had no intention of being stuck down here longer than that so it was the perfect compromise.

Getting just past the door Peter tried to clear the room visually but the corners were shrouded in an inky darkness that his eyes couldn't adjust to. Taking the chance he stalked up to the bed that was pushed against the far wall. Peter peered at the dim outline trying to determine if it was breathing. He came to the realization that it was just a pile of blankets a split second before a shadow fell over him as someone stepped in front of the shaft of light coming through the open door way. Peter's blood ran cold as his calculated risk that Sawyer wasn't cunning enough to be laying in wait in the shadows bit him in the ass. Trapped in the room Peter turned around and prepared himself for a close quarters fight that he wasn't sure he could win even armed with Jake's metal baton. Sawyer glanced at the weapon but it didn't seem to concern him, his teeth suddenly shone white in the low light as he smiled.

"Attacking a drunk man in his sleep. Tisk-tisk, Agent. Gone savage already?" Sawyer chuckled. "I figured Jake was setting me up, but I never dreamed that he'd talk you into doing his dirty work."

"Sawyer…"

"I have to admit though: I suddenly respect you both a little more now."


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-six

Standing in the empty intersection with his heart in his throat Neal found himself more anxious than his first round in the ring. He clenched and opened his fists a few times in a desperate attempt to quell the trembling in his muscles that had escalated into an all out shivering. With his adrenaline demanding that he did something it was getting increasingly difficult to do nothing while he waited to hear a cry of pain from Sawyer. Neal was still having a hard time coming to terms with Peter's radical act of preemptive self defense, but now that he had agreed to let it happen he just wanted it over with. There was still a voice in the back of his head that kept nagging at him that they were both going to regret this brutality for the rest of their lives, but there was a louder voice that was reminding him that at least they'd have a chance at having the rest of their lives.

Neal knew Peter would have to be careful sneaking up on the dangerous man but as the seconds stretched into minutes he started to fear that something had terribly gone wrong. Before Neal could come to the decision on whether or not to leave his post his fears were confirmed when he heard Sawyer's voice and condescending chuckle as he surprised Peter from behind. Neal was too far away to hear exactly what was said, but the words didn't matter. The fact that any words were being exchanged was enough to know that Sawyer wasn't incapacitated by alcohol or even off his guard. Neal doubted that Jake had sent them knowingly into a trap, if he wanted them dead he could do it in the ring, but the results were the same.

"Neal!"

Neal was already half way down the hall having broken into a run the second he'd heard Sawyer's voice by the time Peter called out. Neal only had a split second to contemplate it but he was startled by the fact that Peter's cry had definitely been one of asking for help instead of a warning for Neal to run away. Not that either request would have changed Neal's actions, he just wasn't used to Peter asking for help in a dangerous situation since usually he just wanted him out of the way. Neal couldn't recall a single time that Peter had ever said 'stay here' that he had actually listened, but that never stopped Peter from trying time and time again to keep Neal out of harms way whenever a case suddenly escalated into violence. However with Neal's own continued survival depending on Peter's as well the situation called for a change in tactics.

Focusing on the sounds of the fight that had erupted between Peter and Sawyer it didn't occur to Neal to be cautious when he went to run past the two doors that were between the intersection and Sawyer's room. At a dead run Neal had no chance of stopping when the second door opened and Sawyer's men stepped out in front of him. Instead of even attempting to slow down or even evade the men Neal just lowered his shoulder and slammed into the closest one.

Not expecting to have Neal charge him the man cried out in alarm as he was knocked to the floor. Unable to keep his own balance with all his forward momentum Neal landed on top of him. Before the man could recover Neal sat back on his hips before punching him across the bridge of his nose to try and ensure that he stayed down. The man under him squealed in pain and threw his hands up over his face as blood erupted from his broken nose. Neal ground his teeth at the sound of the other three men laugh and mockingly cringed at their fallen friend the same way a group of spectators did when someone wiped out spectacularly on a skateboard after trying an overly ambitions trick. At ease with their upper hand and having far less at stake in the fight they were not taking it very seriously. Like cats playing with a mouse they knew they could end the fight at any time just by letting their prey go.

Engaged as he was by his tormentor's caviler attitude towards the threat he pose Neal resisted the urge to throw himself at the men in an act of hopeless violence. Neal knew he was a secondary target in all of this and if he took off running that they probably wouldn't even bother chasing after him. Using that theory to his advantage Neal scrambled to his feet and took off making it look like he was just attempting to bolt to save his own life. Underestimating their quarry they joking called him a coward and worse, but their tone changed to one of alarm when they realized he wasn't running away, he was running head long into a fight with their leader.

Bursting into the dark room where Peter and Sawyer were battling one another like angry lions Neal wasn't immediately sure how he could best help the situation. The only light in the room was coming from the hallway adding to the general chaos of the scene. Both men were bloodied but it was difficult to determine if either one of them truly had the upper hand. Armed with the metal baton Peter was not the easy prey that Sawyer was used to dealing with in the ring where no weapons were available. Despite appearing to be holding his own for the time being even armed Peter wasn't going to keep on top for long. Even without the added stresses of several weeks of captivity and previous injuries Peter wasn't a match for Sawyer's strength and relative youth.

Desperate to end the fight quickly Peter swung the heavy metal bar at Sawyer's head. Sawyer managed to reach up in time and finally grabbed a hold of the weapon. Peter cried out in a mixture of panic and frustration as if he'd just been wounded when he failed to yank the baton out of Sawyer's grip. Neal didn't understand the ramification of what had just happened, but Peter was acutely aware of the fact that for all intensive purposes he'd just lost the fight. Sawyer didn't even try to twist the weapon out of Peter's grip, he didn't have to. Peter was in a no win situation, letting go of the baton and surrendering it to Sawyer would be a fatal move, but keeping a hold of it meant he couldn't back away and now only had one hand to both fight with and defend himself. Sawyer smiled brightly at Peter knowing that in the war of attrition that the fight had suddenly become he was sure to win.

The entire scene had only taken seconds to unfold but Neal felt like he had been standing there watching helplessly for an hour. Looking around for anything that could help Neal spotted the large half empty bottle of vodka that Sawyer had left out to help sell his trap. The rest of Sawyer's friends had regrouped and were just arriving as Neal attacked Sawyer with the bottle. Bashing the bottle against the back of Sawyer's head Neal had fully expected it to break but the thick glass remained intact.

Sawyer roared more out of rage than pain at the blow that had been powerful enough to darken his vision for a second but not enough to bring him down. Lashing out at Peter and striking him in the throat Sawyer ripped the baton out of Peter's hand. Already gasping for breath Peter was easy brought down to his knees with a quick blow to the outside of his thigh at the vulnerable pressure point of the illiotbial band that held a bundles of nerves that stretched from his hip to his knee. Turning on Neal with lightning speed Sawyer swung at him recklessly. Jumping back Neal was able to avoid the potentially lethal blow but in doing so he stumble backwards right into Sawyer's friends. The man whose nose Neal had broken wrapped his arm around Neal's throat and held him against his chest as he crushed down on him. Neal reached up and clawed at the arm that was choking him but he could already feel the edges of his consciousness slipping away.

"Carter, don't kill him!" Sawyer barked. "Someone turn on the goddamn lights!"

Carter relaxed his grip just enough to let Neal get a needed breath as the lights momentarily blinded him. Neal tried to free himself but Carter reached around with his free hand and grabbed a hold of Neal's wrist and threatened to break the delicate bones in his grip when Neal offered even the slightest struggle. Finding himself pinned Neal watched in horror as Sawyer casually turned his attention back to Peter twirling the baton in his hand with a casual menace. Bloodied and exhausted Peter had tried to get to his feet but when he'd looked up and seen that Neal had been captured he gave in to a moment of defeat. For a moment everything was quiet, almost calm, in the aftermath of the brief but violent struggle.

Out numbered five to two they had had no chance from the start but it was still hard for Neal to accept that they had just lost their lives even though he knew Sawyer wasn't going to show them any mercy. Peter seemed much more at peace with the idea that the fight was over. Ignoring Sawyer's approach Peter gave Neal a look of sorrowful apology for failing to keep him safe. Neal let him know he had his forgiveness with a genuine smile, he knew that every step Peter had taken had been in an effort to protect him. Peter returned the smile, relaxing slightly at at least knowing that Neal didn't blame him for what was about to happen.

"Touching." Sawyer mocked noticing the silent exchange.

"Sawyer," Peter said in a quiet pleading tone "none of this has anything to do with Neal, please let him go."

"Sure." Sawyer agreed easily with a shrug. "Carter, let him go."

"What?" Carter asked confused.

"I said let him go." Sawyer growled in dangerous irritation at having to repeat himself. "He's not going to leave anyway so we might as well make it his own damn fault that he gets himself beaten to death."

Carter still hesitated to release his captive having been looking forward to getting some revenge for the nose he'd broken. When Sawyer curled his lip at him in warning Carter gave in and let Neal go. Shoving Neal forward Carter punched him hard in the kidney. With a breathless cry of pain Neal dropped to his knees, but more out of a strategic advantage than weakness. Being down low he could use his powerful legs to explode up and into Sawyer's stomach. It wasn't exactly a winning strategy and Sawyer would probably quickly recover and make him regret the surprise attack, but if they were going to die Neal planed to at least go down fighting. Neal was getting ready to spring when Peter stopped him.

"Neal, no. It's over." Peter said firmly reading Neal's body language. "Just go. Get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you. We're in this together, remember?"

"Neal, please, do as I say just this once." Peter pleaded with a horrifying finality.

"Peter…"

"Neal…there's nothing you can do about this."

Having changed his inflection slightly to emphasize the 'you' in his statement Peter stared at Neal expectantly and with almost an electric shock effect Neal figured out what Peter was actually asking him to do. Neal hoped that he managed to hide his realization from Sawyer as he tried to extinguish the spark of hope in his eyes and replace it with a feigned battered defeat. Making a show of being painfully conflicted about leaving Peter behind Neal looked from Peter to the door behind him before sighing heavily and nodding. Getting to his feet Neal went to step towards Peter to say good bye but stopped when Sawyer aggressively pulled his shoulders back as he anticipated Neal to attack him. Neal put his hands up peacefully to show he wasn't a threat. Calling on a skill he'd spent years perfecting Neal brightened his eyes with crocodile tears and let them slip unchecked down his cheeks as he stepped backwards towards the door.

"It's been an honor, Peter."

"Likewise. Good luck."

"Thank you."

"Okay, this I wasn't expecting." Sawyer admitted to Neal. "I can't decide if this is cowardice or incredibly noble of you to honor your friend's last wish."

"Just promise me you'll make it quick." Neal said sourly.

"Absolutely not." Sawyer chuckled. "I offered you a chance to help Burke with a quick death before and you turned me down. We are going to play all night so if I were you I'd get out of ear shot as quickly as possible."

Neal didn't need any acting skills to make him look hesitant to leave to the point of physically shaking. Peter was putting a great deal of faith in him to be going forward with this plan rather than having allowed Neal to try one last ditch effort at violence. Neal's option of attacking Sawyer probably wouldn't have worked but at least Peter wouldn't have had to die alone, something that was a distinct possibly now. Anxious himself Peter swallowed hard from his place on his knees and nodded slightly to Neal to encourage him to leave. Turning away before he could lose his resolve Neal walked away without looking back.

It took all of Neal's strength to force himself to walk out of the room. Spying Jake's key ring still in the door Neal snatched them and broke into a sprint as he took off down the desolate tunnel. Unable to find what he was looking for from where he was Neal was forced to retreat back to the room he shared with Peter to get his bearings. Getting to the door he doubled over and retched against an empty stomach in a combination of fear and exhaustion.

As much as it sickened him Neal was counting on the fact that Sawyer would be true to his word and not just murder Peter without tormenting him first but time was still a major factor. Taking off again Neal prayed that Jake was as much a creature of habit as Neal thought he was. Coming to the room that Jake dragged him to anytime he was bored and wanted to play Neal pounded on the door but got no response. He tested the handle and discovered the door was unlocked. An ever deepening pit opened in Neal's stomach as he opened it and found that no one was inside.

"Jake!" Neal cried desperately down the empty hallway. "Jake! Please! I need your help!"

Neal's heart lept in a moment of hope as a door just down the hall opened and Jake stepped out. It was obvious that he hadn't been faking his own intoxication when he'd handed Peter his mission. Teetering between still drunk and suffering a hangover Jake struggled to focus on Neal who had rushed up to him and grabbed his wrist.

"Neal?" Jake asked groggily. "What's going on?"

"Sawyer is killing Peter right now!"

"Shit." Jake swore as he instantly sobered.

"We need to help him!" Neal urged as he tried to tugged Jake down the hall. "You can stop Sawyer, you're the only one who can."

"Or he'll just kill all three of us."

"I don't care!" Neal roared in frustration. "Help me or I swear *I* will kill you!"

Taking Neal's threat seriously Jake nodded and followed Neal. He couldn't run with the same speed that Neal could but he did his best to keep up. Neal kept a firm grip on Jake's wrist and helped pull him along. Neal started going back to his own room as a starting point to find Sawyer's again but Jake redirected him to a different faster route. Trusting Jake to lead him Neal changed course without argument.

When they took the final turn back into the hall where Sawyer was Neal's heart stumbled in it's galloping rhythm as Peter's tortured voice echoed down the hall. Terrified that they were going to be too late Neal went to force Jake faster down the hall but Jake picked up his own pace at hearing Peter's cry of pain. When they were about fifteen feet from the door Jake suddenly stopped and jerked Neal to a stop as well. Neal took a breath to protest but Jake lashed out and clamped his hand down over Neal's mouth to keep him quiet.

Diving into Neal's pocket Jake stole back his key ring. Jake released Neal and then pointed at the spot where Neal was standing in a clear sign for him to stay put. With Peter screaming once again in the background Neal just nodded as he fought to keep his labored breathing quiet. Jake took a second to compose himself as he prepared to wade into Sawyer's den with only his pretense of authority to shield him. Neal wrapped his arms over his stomach to try and dull the sensation that someone was twisting a knife into it as he watched Jake step into the door way. Neal had no idea if Jake had enough power over Sawyer to make this work but the alpha dog posture Jake had taken gave him hope.

"What the fuck is going on in here?!" Jake demanded like an angry parent coming home to a rowdy party.

"Jake…" Sawyer started in an startled tone.

"Get off of him!"

"He attacked me first." Sawyer stated defensively. "Don't think for a second that I don't know that you..."

"Are you out of your goddamned mind?!" Jake snarled with an impressive amount of passion. "I don't care who started it, you know the rules! Do you want to end up branded?!"

"Wha…"

"Shut up!" Jake demanded before Sawyer got a chance to question his logic. "Burke, get up! Get over here now!"

"No way," Sawyer growled "he's mine!"

"He's York's!" Jake shot back. "You want to explain to York why one of his prize brandeds ended up dying without an audience paying to see it?"

Neal held his breath knowing that this was the argument that was going to either win Peter a reprieve or else prove that Sawyer was beyond the point of reason. There was a palpably tense moment of silence where Sawyer was contemplating his options. A wave of relief that literally brought Neal to his knees washed over him as Peter suddenly stumbled out into the hallway with blood from his battered temple obscuring half his face. Neal got back up and wanted to help Peter as he struggled to remain standing but he feared that if Sawyer learned that Peter had tricked him into letting him go to get help that he'd kill them all in his rage. It was far better to let him think that it was him forcing Peter to scream instead of killing him quickly that had garnered the attention of the labyrinth's Minotaur warden.

"I want my turn in the ring with him." Sawyer demanded.

"Then I suggest you not tell York what happened here tonight." Jake said as he backed out of the room to join Peter in the hallway.

Before Sawyer could respond Jake pulled the door closed and used his keys to lock it. As soon as the door was locked Neal rushed forward to help Peter. The way he was cradling his arm Neal feared that Sawyer had broken it, but when he saw the fresh blood flowing from the bite mark he guessed that Sawyer had been digging into the infected wound to inflict pain. When Neal approached Peter pulled him into an embrace both in grateful relief that they'd survived as well as to help himself stay on his feet.

Neal barely had the strength to help Peter at the moment but he was determined to try. Jake stepped up to the pair revealing that he was shaking violently himself. It was the first time Neal had seen Jake looking truly terrified proving that he really hadn't been sure that he'd be able to control Sawyer. Before Neal could even say thank you Jake pressed them to start moving.

With everything that had happened it was all Neal could do to get Peter back to their room. Peter passively allowed Neal to guide him to the door but once there he fought to keep from stepping inside. Neal didn't understand at first until Peter turned to Jake and reached out to put his hand on his shoulder. Jake looked a little frightened as Peter locked eyes with him as if expecting him to lash out at him in some way.

"Thank you." Peter said gratefully.

Jake furrowed his brow in confusion as he stared at Peter without responding.

"Jake?"

"I figured you'd be furious at me for sending you after Sawyer in the first place."

"I made the decision to go after Sawyer on my own. I'm responsible for what happened, not you."

The brief explanation took just about the last of Peter's energy. When Peter's knee buckled Jake reached out and helped Neal keep Peter up. Barely making it over to the thick blanket on the floor himself Neal was grateful for Jake's help in getting Peter there. Sitting down in the corner Neal encouraged Peter to lean against him. Neal had no illusions about being able to stay awake for long but he still felt the need to sit up to try and watch over Peter as long as he could. Settling in against Neal's chest Peter closed his eyes and instantly passed out. Wrapping his arms around Peter's waist protectively Neal tried to calm his own still racing heart. He tried to push thoughts about how close they'd come to death out of his head and just focus on the fact that they were safe for right now.

Neal hadn't even noticed that Jake had momentarily left until he returned from the bathroom with a washcloth and a few medical supplies. Neal watched Jake wordlessly as he crouched down next to them and did his best to clean away the blood from Peter's gashed temple before turning his surprisingly gently touch to the reopened wound on his arm. Neal thought he saw a glimmer of guilt or maybe even empathy in Jake's eyes but he didn't comment on it. After removing the worst of the blood Jake started to wrap carefully gauze around Peter's arm. Without the strength to even evaluate Peter's injuries Neal was grateful to have Jake tending to the most pressing ones. However there was one more danger that was fast approaching that had Neal worried despite everything else on his mind.

"Peter has a ring fight tomorrow night…"

"Actually it's in about ten hours." Jake corrected somehow seeming to just know the time as he finished wrapping Peter's arm.

"He'll never make it, please, let me…"

"Don't worry about it." Jake interrupted. "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

Jake looked up from Peter and gave Neal the same slightly confused look that he had given Peter earlier. Neal could understand if Jake felt like the sentiment was just a ruse, a desperate move from hapless captives trying their best to win the mercy of their captor rather than a true expression of gratitude. Neal held his rescued friend closer to show Jake that he was honestly grateful to have him saved for now even if it was just prolonging the inevitable.

"Thank you, Jake."

"…you're welcome, Neal."


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hugs for all your support!

Chapter Thirty-seven

"What the hell are you doing Jake?"

"Mind your own damn business Frank or I'll put my fist through your face."

"Itching for a fight are you?" Frank chuckled as he stepped aside.

"Something like that." Jake said sourly.

"Well you certainly came to the right place. Have fun."

"I always do."

Stepping off the elevator Jake left Frank behind and walked down the long corridor. Some how this part of the Labyrinth always managed to be wet. Jake wasn't sure where the water came from but its constantly seeped through the concrete walls and dripped from the ceiling. There were a few places that had actually grown small stalactites of lime from the decades of mineral laden water finding it way through the slab ceiling. A chill ran through Jake's body that had nothing to with the cold damp as the excited sounds of the crowd echoed down the hall like the roar of a single bloodthirsty beast.

From the pitch and tone of the crowd Jake could tell without even seeing that the current fight had just come to a bloody conclusion. Not all fights involved a branded captive, anyone with debuts could fight anyone else with them. Winners got their debut removed completely and losers got a percentage taken off. There were even some crazy enough to enter the right strictly looking for a thrill or to make some cash by betting on themselves. In fact with Miller gone Peter and Neal were currently the only two branded under Jake's direct charge. York expected him to keep order among the other temporary contenders but he didn't have to escort them to the ring the same way he dragged his branded brethren up here. It probably wouldn't be too long before there was another branded in the mix and Jake could use the fresh blood to give Peter and Neal more of a break when he added the new comer to the rotation.

"I shouldn't have killed Miller, I could use him now."

Stepping into the room that held the cage that separated him from the ring Jake had to resist reaching up and rubbing at his chest. The two men on guard duty glanced over at Jake with perfectly matching confused expressions. Rick opened his mouth to ask Jake what was going on but quickly shut it again when Jake narrowed his eyes at him in a deadly glare. The only people who knew Jake was branded at this point was York himself and the four goons he kept close to him at all times. Everyone else who worked for York just knew Jake as a veteran of the ring and not someone to mess with under any circumstances due to his tendency to suddenly turn violent.

Going over to the cage he used his keys to open the door and let himself in not bothering with locking it behind himself. Looking out into the ring he saw that he had been right as the last fight's loser was being helped out the back gate. Jake watched as the clock was reset back to fifteen and the next contender stepped out. Rockwell was no stranger to the ring; mostly due to a gambling problem. He was a half decent fighter, he was certainly a better fighter than gambler considering the frequency of his debuts.

Rockwell had been picked careful to go up against Peter. He had an inch of height and about thirty pounds on the Agent but mostly in fat not muscle making it less of a factor. Under different circumstances Rockwell would have been a good match up for Peter, a challenge but not an unbeatable one. It would have been an entertaining fight for the crowd as they did enjoy seeing a tough battle involving a law enforcement agent striped of his usual power. Trying to look eager to fight Rockwell was pumping up the crowd but Jake knew from experience that many fighters did that to steel up their own courage rather than out of an abundance of self confidence.

"What the hell are you doing Jake?" Jake muttered to himself.

Before he could talk himself out of what was looking to be less and less like a good idea Jake stepped out into the ring. The crowd was used to see him enough that they didn't react to him at first, assuming that he was just stepping out to make some last minute threat or barging with Rockwell. Rockwell was familiar with Jake as well and didn't think much of his approach until Jake stopped about ten feet away from him and signaled for them to start the betting. What Peter and Neal had assumed was just a scare tactic with making them wait in the ring for the fight to start was actually time given to the audience to make a decision and place bets. There were some murmurs of confusion at first but the crowd also knew there was a limited window open to bet and the tone changed to one of excitement as money was put down.

Jake briefly wondered what kind of odds he'd be given. There would be two trains of thought for the house: either place his chances of winning low to entice more people to bet for Rockwell or play it safe and give him high odds to reduce any money lost when he won. Jake guessed it would be the later. This crowd wouldn't really know anything about his fighting ability but they would likely guess that he wouldn't be one of the ring master if he couldn't hold his own.

"What's going on, Jake?" Rockwell asked sounding a little anxious. "I thought I was fighting that Fed Sawyer told me not to kill."

"Change of plans." Jake shrugged.

"Aren't you off limits or something?"

"Only in the tunnels, there are no rules in the ring."

"Right…uh…if I lost to the Fed I was still going to get my debt fully paid instead of just the half that usually goes to the loser. You know, added reward for the added risk of tangling with an Agent."

"You think I'm less of a threat than he is?" Jake growled dangerously.

"No, it's just the FBI doesn't tend to be very forgiving and if they ever figure out what's going on down here...well, I'd rather not be a part of their personal wrath. Anyway, do I still get that deal with you?"

"Planing for failure are you?"

"I'm not constantly down here because I'm a winner, Jake."

Jake honestly didn't know what this was going to do to Rockwell's deal with York, but he didn't care. Jake had zero sympathy for Rockwell, he was down here because he refused to learn his lesson and get real help for his gambling issues. He was allowed to make the same mistake over and over again and still got to walk away once the fight was over and see the sun again. Jake made a single mistake once and he was stuck down here for the rest of his life.

Getting angrier the more he thought about it when the bell rung signifying the start of the fight Jake screamed in animalistic rage before he rushed Rockwell. The crowd roared their approval as Jake savagely drew first blood but he couldn't hear them over the pounding sound of his own heart in his ears. It had been longer than Jake cared to remember since he'd been in the ring but the adrenaline all came back to him. Rockwell had been taken off guard at first but after the painful strike he pulled his head back into the game. For as often as he lost both in and out of the ring Rockwell still fought like a cornered animal.

Twelve minutes into the fight both men were heavily sweating panting for breath but Rockwell was the only one heavily bleeding. Feeling like he had given the crowd a good enough show Jake decided to end the round. Rockwell had gotten in a few solid hits but mostly because Jake had allowed it. He knew York was going to be angry with him as it was having taken Peter's place in the fight, the last thing he needed was pissing the crowd off as well by failing to entertain them. No one enjoyed a heavily one sided fight so Jake had purposefully let his guard down as well as made sure to act more injured than he was. York wouldn't be fooled by the act but as long as the crowd was happy that's all that mattered.

The audience showed that they were having a good time as the noise level raised to a deafening level when Jake knocked Rockwell out with a powerful right upper cut. Rockwell crumpled to the stained floor like a rag doll from the force. Looking down at him Jake had to admit that it had been cathartic to take out some of his pent up aggression on the man. Back when he'd first found himself in the Labyrinth being in the ring had been a terrifying life or death struggle, but it would take a more dangerous opponent than Rockwell for Jake to experience that particular fear again. From the start it hadn't been fighting Rockwell that had made Jake nervous, it was explaining things to York that was going to be the real challenge.

Jake's motives for taking Peter's place in the fight weren't completely altruistic. York would have been equally angry, if not more so, if Peter had stumbled into the ring half dead already and likely gotten himself killed. So with Peter in no condition to fight due to Jake's fault Jake had found himself in a bit of a no win situation. In his drunken haze setting Peter on Sawyer had seemed like a good idea, but in the aftermath he wasn't sure what had made him think that it was going to end in anything other than disaster.

Jake looked down as Rockwell started to slowly regain consciousness. Rockwell had three more seconds to get up before Jake was declared the winner but even if by some miracle he did get up he wasn't in any condition to be a threat. On his back Rockwell suddenly started having trouble breathing as he thrashed. Despite hating the man for his relative freedom Jake kicked Rockwell to force him to roll over onto his side allowing him to spit up the thick blood that had been chocking him.

"Thanks." Rockwell said weakly as the bell rung signifying his loss.

"If I see you down here again, I'll kill you."

Closing his eyes in exhaustion Rockwell just nodded his understanding. Jake's message might have come off as him wanting Rockwell to seek some real help for his gambling but it was actually just a warning that next time Jake doubted he'd be able to keep his temper as in check as he had tonight. With the fight officially over Jake turned and unceremoniously left the ring. If he was lucky York wasn't even here tonight. He doubted anyone would think twice about his participation enough to bother York with that information so his problem could be solved already.

Getting all the way back to his room Jake was feeling more hopefully that there weren't going to be any consequences for him stepping in for Peter. However when he opened the door his stomach dropped when he found one of York's main men waiting for him. Jake didn't need to be told as he just turned around and went to the door a little ways down the hall where he knew York and his other guards would be waiting for him. The man that had been in his room followed closely behind just in case Jake decided to run at the last minute. There was zero risk of Jake running, he knew these tunnels well enough to know that there was no where to go.

Trying to look contrite Jake stepped into the room that he often dragged Neal into with his heart pounding in his throat. York was half sitting half leaning against the sturdy wooden table dressed in a dark suit and a plain colored tie as always. When York was top side it would be impossible to distinguish him as anything other than your average successful Wallstreet businessman. It wasn't until you crossed him that he revealed the wolf hiding under the well tailored sheepskin.

With the arrogance of a King York snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor at his feet. Jake didn't hesitate to walk over and get down on his knees in front of York. There was no sense in pretending that he didn't know what this was about, it would only anger York further. Although Jake was hoping that if he played his cards right he might get away without telling York the whole truth.

"I'm sorry about the fight, I didn't know what else to do." Jake apologized. "Burke has food poisoning, I knew he wouldn't survive a fight and I know you don't want that yet, so I improvised."

"Food poisoning?" York repeated with a raised eye brow.

"Yeah," Jake shrugged casually "you know how the food is down here."

"I don't really, but I certainly don't pay much for it."

"He'll be good to go again soon."

"Let's say I believe you." York said in a tone that suggested that he didn't. "If Burke is out for the night why didn't you just have Caffrey take his place?"

Jake froze when he realized that not only didn't have an answer for York but that he didn't have an answer for himself. It hadn't even occurred to him as a solution to throw Neal into the ring against Rockwell. Putting himself in the ring without even considering the other option was the first time in as long as Jake could remember that he had put himself in harms way for another, and there was only one reason that he would do that. He hadn't even admitted to himself that Neal or Peter were anything more than playthings to him, but there was no denying a stronger connection now.

Not having an answer right away Jake didn't even bother trying to come up with a lie knowing that York already knew the truth. York looked down on Jake with what might almost be seen as sympathy or at the very least pity. Jake jolted slightly as York suddenly reached out and carded his fingers gently into his hair. He expected York to use the hold to jerk his head back, but he kept his touch gentle. York guided Jake to look up at him and when he did Jake was surprised to see a sad smile on York's usually stoic face.

"How long have you been down here, Jake?"

"I…I don't know." Jake replied honestly. "I've lost track."

"So have I actually." York admitted. "I've always liked you. You were never a bad kid, you just trusted the wrong people. However ignorance of my laws is no defense and examples have to be made."

Jake just nodded slightly. He'd had no idea who he was going up against all those years ago when he'd been invited into what had seemed like a simple heist job. Doubled crossed by the others he'd been left behind as a sacrificial lamb. By the time York had figured out that Jake hadn't acted alone or that he hadn't been the ring leader it was too late; Jake had already earned a brand.

"You know, I think tonight was my fault." York said suddenly.

"Wha…what?" Jake asked shocked.

"Take your shirt off." York ordered calmly as he took his hand out of Jake's hair.

"Sir, I…"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the four other men in the room that all had leering grins slapped across their faces. Jake ground his teeth angrily at how much they enjoyed seeing him humiliated. He didn't even know their names but they always seemed to take pleasure in their visits down here with York to lord over him. Not wanting to risk York giving them the go ahead to tear his shirt away from him Jake pulled it off himself. After staring down at Jake for a moment York reached behind himself and picked up the metal baton that Jake usually carried with him. With his blood running ice cold Jake cursed under his breath at forgetting to retrieve the weapon from Sawyer. York rested the end of the weapon on Jake's shoulder and sighed.

"Sawyer tells a very different story than food poisoning for Burke being under the weather tonight." York smiled coldly. "I will say this: I am impressed that you were able to talk Burke into attacking Sawyer and Burke had actually killed him I would be even more impressed with you both. On the other hand it shows a deep lack of respect to me that you think you can skirt the rules by having Burke as your errand boy. Which is what brings us as to why I think that all of this is my fault…"

Jake swallowed hard as York traced the tip of the metal weapon across his chest until it was over the faint white scaring of his brand. The once gruesomely bright scar may have lost some of its color over the years but the memory of receiving it was seared vividly in Jake's mind. Nearly out his mind with panic as York pressed the baton into his chest Jake fought to find his voice. Unable to find words Jake was only able to manage a heartfelt wail of panic when York nodded to his guards who were already closing in on him. Jake fought blindly against the powerful hands that grabbed him as he kicked and flailed wildly which did little to stop them from lifting him up before pinning him to the floor on his back. Arching back against the cold floor Jake screamed at the top of his lung in a blood curdling cry of terror as he heard the distinctive sound of York igniting a small blow-torch. Jake's next cry was cut off by one of the men forcing a twisted piece of cloth between his teeth. Reflexively biting down Jake started violently hyperventilating which combined with his sky rocking blood pressure was bring him close to mercifully passing out. As he started to black out he could still hear York's words that held an edge of empathy to them.

"I never should have let your brand fade."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-eight

Sitting with his back against the wall and Peter resting against his chest Neal closed his eyes briefly in exhaustion. His back had long since gone numb from the cold concrete, but Neal still found himself oddly comfortable. With his arms loosely wrapped around Peter Neal concentrated on the gentle rise and fall of his breathing as he slept. Neal had fought to keep awake to guard over him at first but after a few hours he'd thought it would benefit them both if he could get some sleep as well. However so far every time he closed his eyes his adrenaline spiked and snapped him back awake with a racing heart and slick of cold sweat beading his skin. He'd been through the cycle several times now and he was starting to worry that he'd reached a point where he was paradoxically too tired to fall asleep.

Opening his eyes when he felt his anxiety starting to creep back up on him again Neal automatically increased his embrace on Peter. He quickly noticed not only how much it helped calm him but also how natural it had become to seek comfort through physical contact which had never really been his instinct before; certainly not with his 'handler'. If someone had asked Neal five years ago under what circumstances he'd hold a Federal Agent in his arms he was certain that he would have responded seriously with 'only if he was dying in them'.

"Of course that's basically what's happening now." Neal sighed quietly to himself.

Peter had survived his close call with Sawyer but the heat that was radiating off his skin showed that the encounter had taken a heavy toll. In the time that it had taken Neal to get Jake Sawyer had savagely abused the bite mark in Peter's arm and the brand in his chest, both of which were dangerously infected. It wasn't until Neal looked down at the seeping wound on Peter's chest that he realized his own brand wasn't really bothering him. It still throbbed, but it no longer lanced pain through him every time he moved. Staring at the red streaks radiating out of Peter's brand and tracing up his arm Neal wondered if there was anything they could do to stop either wound from going truly septic.

"Please don't get sick, Peter," Neal advised pointlessly "we're barely holding on here as it is."

Seeming to respond Peter nestled against Neal briefly before returning to his slow measured breathing. Smiling slightly Neal reached up and ran his fingertips through Peter's hair. With Peter already sleeping Neal was making the extra contact more to sooth himself the same way he'd pet a sleeping dog. It worked and Neal was starting to think that he might actually be able to sleep himself. Closing his eyes Neal finally drifted off into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

What felt like only seconds later Neal woke feeling disoriented. It took him a moment to realize that although he had fallen asleep propped up he was laying down now using Peter's lap as a pillow. He reasoned that Peter must have woken up at some point and had managed to switch their positions without waking him. Sitting up Neal found that after being on guard for a few hours Peter had fallen back asleep again. Knowing he wasn't going to get any more sleep himself for a while Neal carefully helped Peter lay back down.

Neal pulled the wool blanket that they'd been laying on up and over Peter to keep him warm. Neal had plans of sneaking off and taking a shower and maybe even have something to eat while Peter got a little extra sleep when his skin suddenly chilled from the mysterious sixth sense that let you know someone was watching you. Looking over his shoulder Neal jerked violent when he discovered that Jake was standing in the open doorway staring at him. Not having heard the key in the lock it was impossible to know how long he had been standing there watching them.

Jake didn't say anything he just motioned for Neal to step closer. Nodding to Jake Neal turned back to Peter and debated on whether or not he should wake him to let him know he was leaving. Deciding to let him rest Neal risked that he'd stay asleep and never even know he was gone. Neal assumed he was filling in for Peter in the ring and either he'd be back in half an hour or never again. Either way there wasn't anything Peter could do to help him so he might as well remain blissfully ignorant as to what was happening.

Not wanting to make Jake wait after everything he did to save Peter from Sawyer Neal got to his feet and peacefully walked up to him. Once he was closer Neal furrowed his brow at the way Jake's shoulders seemed to be heaving slightly as if he was laboring for breath. In the heavy cast shadows of the doorway it was hard to get a good look at Jake's face but his whole body language was off. He usually held himself with a loose aggressive energy but he looked absolutely cowed right now.

"Jake?"

Not answering to Neal's concerned tone Jake just stepped to the side to let Neal out of the room while he locked the door before he turned away and walked off down the hall. With a sinking feeling in his stomach Neal was starting to worry about his chances in the ring. Jake's silence wasn't a good sign as he usually looked forward to these bouts with irritating cheerfulness. Swallowing hard Neal worked to go over everything both Peter and Jake had taught him in an attempt to prepare as best he could. Although trying to remain positive Neal had serious doubts that he could hold his own against someone matched to fight Peter if for no other reason than he'd be fighting outside his weight class. Jake's sullen quiet mood seemed to agree with Neal's internal assessment.

"Jake," Neal said carefully "I just want to thank you again for what you did for Peter and I and even for letting me take this fight for him. If I don't survive it please help Peter…work with him, I promise he will do everything he can to help you out of this in return."

Still eerily quiet as he walked down the hall as if on his own way to the gallows Jake just gave Neal a sideways glance before shaking his head sadly.

"I know you don't think either one of us can save you, and you might be right, but trust me it would be worth letting us try. Even if we failed at least you wouldn't die alone."

This time Jake did react, but not as Neal had hoped. Curling his upper lip at Neal in a furious snarl he struck him with a vicious back hand. With his ears ringing from the blow Neal didn't have any time to recover as Jake grabbed a fist full of his hair. Using the purchase to double Neal over he dragged him a short way before using his key to open a door off to the right. Neal stumbled forward as Jake threw him into a room that held a bed and a table with a single chair.

Neal scrambled to get away from the suddenly violent Jake but he was trapped in the small room just as Peter had been with Sawyer. Jake easily pinned Neal to the wall and Neal braced himself for a painful blow to the stomach as he did his best to shield himself. However Jake didn't attack him now that he had him cornered. As quickly as he had turned on Neal he switched moods again. Pressed against the wall Neal froze as Jake rested his forehead in the space where Neal's neck and shoulder met as if literally seeking out a shoulder to cry on. Neal's heart raced in panic as Jake slipped his hand up his side and placed his palm over Neal's brand. Holding his breath Neal prepared for Jake to torture him with the mark that had just started to heal.

Although keeping Neal up against the wall Jake didn't use his advantage to hurt him. With Jake's weight pressed against him it took Neal a moment to realize that it was Jake who was trembling and not himself. Nuzzling affectionately against Neal's throat Jake sighed heavily as he found a small moment of peace but that he knew it wasn't going to last. Terrified Neal wasn't sure what to do, he felt like he was having a close encounter with a wild animal that had the power to kill him but seemed content with just being curious. The problem being that if he made the wrong move the beast side of Jake might tear him apart out of pure instinct.

After a full minute went by without Jake making a move Neal decided to take a risk as he reached around Jake and carefully placed his hand between Jake's shoulder blades. Neal had only been living in the Labyrinth for a month and he found his sanity depending more and more on the reassurance of physical contact from a safe caring hand. For as long as he suspected Jake had been down here he could imagine that Jake was craving to make a similar connection, even if he didn't know how. He had already proven to be very physical in the past even if he had covered up his need in the guise of violence and cruelty. Proving Neal's theory Jake gratefully accepted Neal's light touch for a moment before he brought his own hand up off Neal's brand and carded it into his hair gently. Jake had teased and tormented him with a mocking lover's touch before, but this time it felt like he truly meant to be intimate on some level, possibly trying to recreate the mutual comforting contact that Neal and Peter had developed. Even though he was sick with panic Neal forced himself to relax under Jake's hand not wanting him to turn violent again if he suspected that Neal wasn't enjoying this moment the same way he seemed to be.

"You were right, Neal," Jake whispered as his grip on Neal's hair suddenly started to turn painful "you and Peter can save me."

"Jake…"

"When I bring you back to Burke broken and lifeless he'll kill me…and I'll finally be free."


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thank you guys so much for the support last chapter, it means a lot to me and it got me writing this chapter quick quick! My hope is that you are just as exhausted as Neal is by the end of this chapter. ;)

Chapter Thirty-nine

"Jake…Jake, please, this is insane."

"I know."

The desolation in Jake's hollow defeated tone sent a chill down Neal's spine and turned his already painful stomach. This wasn't one of Jake's usual violent mood swings, he had been fragile before but something had happened over the past few hours that had truly broken him. Still pinned against the wall by Jake's aggressive embrace Neal's mind raced for something he could say to ease Jake's pain enough to pull him back up over the edge that he'd slipped off of. Savoring a moment of human contact Jake wasn't really hurting him, but the subtle increasing quivering of his muscles warned Neal that he was quickly building up to it. Jake shifted his weight slightly causing him to jerk slightly and growl in what sounded like pain. His black shirt kept Neal from seeing any evidence of his recent rebranding, but his pale sweaty skin betrayed that something was off.

"Jake, you don't want to hurt me." Neal said softly. "You've never wanted to hurt anyone."

"I'd hate myself less if that was true," Jake whimpered "but the truth is I do enjoy it…or at least I used to."

"Peter and I have changed that, haven't we?"

"Yes..."

Neal had thought that he might actually be getting through to Jake, but the sorrow and pain in Jake's one word answer was almost as crushing as his body weight. Neal wasn't sure if it was him and Peter showing Jake something he felt he'd never have by displaying their loyalty to one another that was upsetting him or if it was Jake suddenly coming to regret all the pain and death he'd caused in the past now that he had finally met someone who had soured his taste for it. Whatever it was Jake didn't want to talk about it any more. Having been all but paralyzed against the wall Neal was slow to react when Jake jerked him away from it and spun him around. Quickly capturing Neal's wrists and pulling them behind his back Jake forced Neal towards the nearby archway that lead to a short hall just like in the room that he shared with Peter. With Jake driving him forward it was difficult to maintain his balance let alone find a way to twist out of Jake's powerful grip.

It wasn't until Neal was already several steps into the large bathroom that he realized exactly why Jake had taken him from the front room. Unlike the plain shower in his own room Jake also had a large white metal bathtub which he had already filled with water to the point of overflowing. For Neal the fact that Jake had premeditated this whole thing suddenly made the once surreal idea that he was about to be murdered very real. Momentarily overwhelmed by the cruel fate Jake had chosen for him Neal's knees buckled under him. Jake instinctively pulled Neal back into balance to keep him from falling which allowed Neal to pitch back and push into Jake to try and prevent him from forcing him any closer to the deadly bath. Jake cried out in pain as Neal jerked back against his chest and for the time being Neal kept Jake from forcing him forward.

"Jake! Jake, no! Please, please don't do this!" Neal begged desperately as he dug his heels into the floor as best he could. "You can't drown me!"

"It's the cleanest and least painful death I can offer you." Jake said seriously. "It won't take long."

Although technically a relatively quick death there was a primal terror that went along with being held under water that made Neal's throat close in on itself just at the thought. Choking on his own panic Neal let out a strangled cry as Jake gave up on trying to force him to step forward and just wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him up off the floor. Kicking wildly in the air Neal tried to pry Jake's arms off his waist with no success, being held from behind there was little he could do to inflict enough pain on Jake to make him let him go. Being carried over to the tub Neal threw his head back and cried out at the top of his lungs in anguish partly out of hope that it would make Jake have a change of heart, partly in desperation that Peter might somehow hear him, but mostly from sheer terror at what was most likely the beginning of a violent end.

"I'm sorry for this, Neal." Jake said sounding genuine.

Neal didn't have the concentration to waste on pointing out to Jake that he wouldn't need to apologize if he just let him go as he fought to get a foothold on the slippery edge of the tub. Neal could feel Jake's terrifying determination to seeing this through now that his diseased mind had convinced him that this was what was best for everyone. Ignoring Neal's protests Jake quickly discovered that although having Neal around the waist was a good way to carry him it made it difficult for him to actually get Neal into the water. As Neal fought bitterly for freedom he noticed that Jake was being oddly gentle as he tried to problem solve how to put his captive down without letting him escape. Neal just hoped that Jake's odd brand of mercy lasted long enough for him to twist out of his grip before Jake decided to make things easier by just squeezing him hard enough to break some ribs.

Getting one foot planted on the edge of the tub Neal pushed with all his strength to shove Jake back and hopefully throw him off balance. Like before Jake growled in pain but this time it gave him a push of strength as his temper suddenly flared. Neal yelped as his foot slipped and plunged into the cold water when Jake shoved him forward with what felt like an inhuman amount of force. With one leg already in the tub it was easy for Jake to take Neal down. Slipping on the smooth bottom of the tub Neal drew as deep a breath as he could before slamming back first through the surface of the water with a noisy splash that sloshed a quarter of the water out of the tub and onto the floor.

Once under the water Neal found himself surprisingly calm. As a strong swimmer he was not only comfortable in the water but also had a good idea of just how long he could hold his breath. Thrashing at the water with enough force to foam the surface Neal proved far more difficult for Jake to hold under that he had probably expected. Although struggling to keep up with his body's oxygen needs Neal managed a few shallow gasps at the surface as Jake tried to pin him down. Starting to lose the advantage over Jake Neal took one last good breath before changing tactics. Instinct told Neal to stay on his back to keep his face closer to the surface, however logic reminded him that pushing off the bottom with his hands and knees would be a more effective way to actually get out of the water. The problem was finding a way to flip over.

Jake had finally tangled his hand into Neal's hair and used the purchase to effectively hold his head back under the surface in a grip that Neal had trouble breaking free from. He shook his head but Jake just gripped down tighter to stop him. With his lungs starting to burn Neal made one last attempt to twist in Jake's hold. Not really wanting to see Neal's fearful expression anyway Jake finally actually helped Neal roll over so that his palms were against the bottom of the tub while making sure to keep him under. Starving for air at this point Neal pushed up violently with as much power as his adrenaline soaked muscles would supply. Neal broke the surface with a painful gasp as he filled his lungs with fresh air. Although he had inhaled some stray water he couldn't afford to go into a coughing fit as Jake grabbed the back of his neck and tried to force him back under again. Unable to get his legs under himself Neal has to settle for arching his back and locking his elbows to keep his face just above the water. Panting heavily Neal stared down into the the agitated water that was stained pink with blood from older battle wounds that Jake was reopening. Feeling the strain of maintaining the vulnerable position he knew that it was only a matter of time before Jake won out again.

"Jake this isn't going to help you!" Neal cried between gulps of air. "Peter couldn't kill Sawyer, what makes you think he'll be able to kill you?!"

"He wasn't psychotic when he went after Sawyer, he will be after this. He'll tear me apart in blind rage."

"He's half dead already! You're just going to end up killing us both and then you'll be alone again!"

For a split second Neal thought he might have actually gotten through to Jake as he eased the pressure on the back of his neck. Trembling violently with the effort it was taking to stay up on his hands Neal wasn't sure how much physical fight he had left in him as his hand slipped and he barely managed to catch himself half an inch above the water. Any thoughts Jake had of aborting his plans to continue on his murderous path were erased when he saw just how close he was to succeeding. Caught by surprise Neal wasn't able to keep himself from crying out when Jake suddenly changed the direction of the force he was applying and used his grip on the back of Neal's neck to slam his temple against the far side of the tub. He already had a gash there from a previous ring fight and Jake reopened the wound with a splatter of bright red.

Knocked somewhat senseless by the blow Neal was helpless to stop Jake from shoving him back under and pinning him to the bottom. Already breathless from his cry of pain Neal panicked as his lungs almost instantly demanded that he inhale. Grinding his teeth together to keep instinct from trying to draw water into his lungs Neal fought to push himself back up to no effect. Lacking the brute strength this time to win Neal fell back on trying one last desperate con. With the primitive part of his brain screaming at him to keep fighting Neal had to pour all of his will power into relaxing completely instead as he feigned passing out. Neal was worried that his terrified shaking was going to give him away but there was nothing he could do about it as he decided to use what might be his last seconds hoping that despite their 'together or not at all' pact that Peter managed to somehow managed to survive long enough to be rescued or escape.

Jake wasn't fooled at first but committed to the lie Neal held as still as possible. Even with the edge of his consciousness starting to slip away Neal was no closer to accepting the fact that he might actually die in the Labyrinth than when he'd first been branded. Unfortunately he did understand that accepting death was in no way a prerequisite for it. The fire in Neal's chest from lack of oxygen was just starting to frighteningly subside when Jake suddenly jerked his hands way and released his hold.

Without any time to spare Neal shoved violently upwards. Gasping and coughing as he filled his lungs with what felt like equal amounts of air and water Neal scrambled to try and get out of the tub before Jake could torture him further by starting over. Kicking against the slick bottom of the tub did nothing to help him gain traction. Clutching to the edge of the tub with enough force to lance pain up through his hands Neal weld his eye shut and screamed as Jake put his hands on his shoulders.

"Peter!" Neal cried desperately. "Peter! Help me!"

"Neal, I…"

Hearing Jake's voice turned Neal's panic into rage as he thought he found the strength he needed to climb out of the tub not realizing that he'd only managed it with Jake's help. Collapsing to the soaked floor Neal spat blood onto the floor finding that he had bitten his tongue during the struggle. Gasping for breath Neal ended up filling his stomach with air as well leading to a fit of dry heaving that compromised his ability to get it into his lungs as his diaphragm spasmed. His treasonous long hair plastered against his face making it difficult to see and get oriented but that didn't stop him from trying to get up.

Jake was saying something that Neal didn't bother to try and understand as he focused on just getting away from his tormentor. His oxygen starved muscles were hard to control and he barely managed to get to his hands and knees through the shaking. With every breath he was getting some strength and coordination back but not nearly quickly enough to rally an escape. Frustrated with how slowly he was recovering and fearful that Jake was just going to haul him back into the suffocating liquid Neal tried to call out for help again but just ended up wailing incoherently.

Still unable to get to his feet and with his mind reeling from the botched murder Neal was getting to a point where he was starting to wish that Jake would make good on his promise to make this quick. However, when he felt Jake's hands on him again he reared up to fight back. Throwing his elbow back he jabbed Jake hard in the chest. Roaring like a wounded animal Jake tried to back away but ended up tripping on the edge of the tub. Lashing out to catch himself Jake grabbed a hold of Neal's arm, but his momentum just ended pulling Neal backwards with him. Splashing back into the tub together the two men churned the water like a pair sharks in the mists of a feeding frenzy.

Neal's first instinct was just to do whatever it took to get out of the water, but when he twisted around and found himself on top of Jake's hips he changed mind. Having already tried and failed to escape the life and death battle he felt his only other option for survival was winning it. Sitting heavily on Jake's hips Neal put his palms against Jake's chest and held him down. More than half of the water in the tub was now on the floor but there was still enough to keep Jake under. On his back with one arm pinned between himself and the edge of the tub Jake didn't have the leverage to fight against his victim turned attacker.

Kicking the water up and bucking against Neal in panic Jake wasn't using any particular strategy to free himself and so Neal was able to keep him down. Having cried out before he hit the water Jake had very little oxygen reserve and it didn't take long before his fighting was mostly just convulsive jerking. Sick to his stomach and close to blacking out himself from the stress Neal stared down through the water at the man he was actively drowning. Although the water blurred his vision Jake looked up directly at Neal with the expression of a terrified child. As much as he spoke of wanting death now that he was facing it survival instinct and fear were colliding. With his last shred of strength Jake reached up with his free hand and squeezed Neal's arm gently in a silent plea for mercy.

Pulling his lip up over his teeth like an angry wolf Neal shoved down harder on Jake. Jake's eyes rolled back to white as he arched back in pain from Neal digging into his fresh brand. Unaware of the injury before Neal now caught sight of the blood rising up through his fingers that were pressed over Jake's heart. Determined to finishing this despite the new information of Jake's damning injury Neal tried to block everything out and just hold him down. However as Jake started to fade Neal's mind was working on what Jake had said to him moments ago that he hadn't understood upon first hearing but now echoed clear as a bell in his head.

'I'm not going to hurt you, it's okay, I'm sorry…'

Welding his eyes shut as tears streaked down Neal already wet face. He didn't want Jake to show remorse for what he'd done, he wanted to be justified in turning the tides. Feeling Jake's grip weaken Neal howled in a clash of conflicting emotions the most powerful of which was anger at Jake; not for tying to kill him but for putting him the position of having to chose whether or not to take a life himself. Unable to cross the line of murder even if it had been made blurry by the complications of self-defense Neal jerked Jake up out of the water by his shirt. Gasping and coughing Jake didn't try to fight back or even attempt to get Neal off his hips. He just worked on getting his breath back.

Exhausted Neal just sat back and did the same while he waited to see if the fight was over. He hoped that Jake had had enough of death, but Neal knew it was still a risk that once he recovered he would attack again. All Neal knew for sure was that holding a frightened man under water until he drowned was one of those acts that he couldn't live with so there was no point in going through with it even if it was to save his own life. Shivering violently as the adrenaline drained from his over taxed system Neal feared he might pass out at any second.

Laboring for breath himself Jake stared at Neal looking genuinely remorseful. With a silent truce established Neal looked around the scene that had become starkly calm. He wasn't even sure where they went from here. As much as he wanted to just return to Peter and try and forget the traumatic near drowning Neal doubted he had the strength to do either. Closing his eyes Neal bowed his head and wondered how he was going to find enough fight in his heart to make it back to Peter let alone through any more of the trials ahead.

"…Neal?"

"Don't talk to me right now, Jake."

"I...uh...I just wanted to thank you." Jake continued anyway.

"I didn't spare you for you, I did it for me." Neal growled. "I'm not a murderer."

"That's not what I wanted to thank you for. I've killed so many men that I never imagined that adding one more could matter."

"Then why did you stop?" Neal whispered hoarsely. "Why didn't you kill me?"

"I thought I had, and in that moment I felt something I haven't felt in longer than I can remember…remorse. I didn't think I had any humanity left in me, thank you for showing me otherwise."

"Does this mean you'll help Peter and I?"

"I'm sorry, Neal, I can't. In fact everything is just going to get worse from now on, I can't shield either of you from any more ring fights or take them on myself."

"Jake…"

"York is losing his faith in me because of you. One more misstep and I won't run the Labyrinth anymore…York will give it to Sawyer."

"Then you can help us."

"How?"

"By not letting that happen."


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thank you all for your continued support! This chapter was amazingly difficult to write for...reasons. :) Hugs!

Chapter Forty

With his arms wrapped over his stomach Peter couldn't decide if the sharp pain was psychosomatic from waking up and finding Neal gone or if it was internal bleeding from several shots to the gut he'd received from Sawyer. Praying that he wasn't actively dying Peter ground his teeth together before allowing himself a keen wail of pain. He would have never dreamed of vocalizing his pain to such a degree if he had any kind of audience but in the isolation of the concrete room the noise helped him find some relief.

With the senseless act of crying out alleviating some of the physical pain Peter decided the source must be stress and not injury. The realization helped settle his stomach further but didn't remove the ache completely. There was still the very real danger that Neal wasn't coming back and as far as Peter was concerned he would prefer to be bleeding out than learning that Neal had been killed in a fight that by all rights he should be fighting himself.

The more time passed the harder it was becoming for Peter to not assume that the worst had happened. Beyond the obvious tragedy of Neal's death Peter found himself obsessing more over the thought that he hadn't been there for Neal at the end. The idea of him dying alone was an unbearable insult added to injury that was launching Peter right past the denial stage of grief directly to anger. Rationally he knew he should be directing that anger at York but not having ever even seen his face Peter was more focused on Jake since he was the more tangible enemy.

Starting to see red Peter got to his feet to pace. Standing up he heard the sharp tinking sound of metal striking stone. Looking down he found the key that Neal had taken from Jake's key ring. Despite his confidence that he could some how wear the key down to fit the lock Neal had yet to start on it. Peter never had much faith in the key helping and without Neal he knew it had no chance. However he still picked it up and slipped it into his pocket as a reminder of a fleeting moment of hope if nothing else. Pacing like a caged lion Peter grew increasingly agitated as his anixty and rage competed for his attention.

When Peter heard a key grating in the worn lock of his room the acid sting of bile instantly lept to the back of his throat. As much as he wanted Neal to still be alive he had all but convinced himself that he wasn't and that this was Jake coming with that news or even worse coming to try and force him into taking Neal's body down the hall to lay next to Miller and the others. Holding his breath Peter had no idea exactly how he was going to react if Jake was alone but at the moment he was leaning towards violence he just wasn't sure how far he would take it. Peter feared that if Jake opened the door without Neal that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from murdering their tormentor in cold blood. He wasn't even convinced that he should try to stop himself.

Peter's blood pressure had been so elevated by stress that when the door did open and revealed Neal was with Jake Peter came dangerously close to passing out from the sheer relief. Forcing himself to keep conscious Peter stepped forward only to pause when he noticed both men were dripping wet. Neal glanced up at Peter but quickly looked away. His wet skin was a deathly pale and the cut at his temple showed evidence of being recenltly reopened, he looked nearly dead on his feet but he didn't seem like he'd just come from the ring. Jake avoided looking at Peter entirely as he went to put his hand on Neal's shoulder but thought better of it.

The pair's dark somber mood spoke of some shared trauma that had significantly changed their dynamic. Peter couldn't even begin to guess what had happened but it had shattered Jake's casual aggressive veneer. Jake's pathological need to appear confident and in control was gone for the moment, but at the same time so was light in Neal's eyes. Between Jake having his tail tucked between his legs and the hollowness in Neal's expression Peter didn't know how best to react.

"Fight's in two days." Jake told Neal quietly with a note of apology in his scratchy voice.

Neal acknowledged the warning with a weary nod and stepped into the room. Jake finally looked up at Peter with forlorn expression like he was seeking an invitation to stay, but when Peter didn't immediately offer one he turned away. Closing the door he locked it from the outside keeping them from being able to roam the halls. Concerned by Jake change in behavior but more worried about Neal Peter stepped up to him.

"Neal?"

Looking like he could pass out at any second Neal was still alarmingly avoiding eye contact. He tried several times to try and start telling his story but failed to find even the faintest whisper of his voice. More than wanting to know what happened Peter just wanted Neal to look up at him, sensing that Neal wasn't doing so in order to try and keep from breaking down. Feeling that a bit of catharsis was exactly what Neal needed Peter put his hand under Neal's jaw and gently tilted his head back. Reluctantly agreeing to eye contact Neal still tried to keep his emotions at bay even as his eyes brightened with tears.

Peter flashed him a warm empathetic smile to let Neal know it was okay to cry. Once a single tear escaped the entire dam crumbled as Neal leaned forward against Peter's chest gave in to the torrent of emotion. Peter wrapped his arms around Neal and held him without bothering him with any empty lies such as 'everything's going to be okay'. Rather than actively trying to calm him Peter offered him solace by giving him a safe place to work though whatever had just happened to him with a healthy release. Closing his eyes Peter allowed a few tears to silently slip down his cheeks.

Eventually Neal's heartbreaking tears were reduced to him shuddering to catch his breath. Still keeping him in a warm embrace Peter allowed a comfortable silence settle over them as Neal calmed. Appreciating Peter's quiet support Neal leaned heavily against him needing the assistance both physically and mentally to stay on his feet. Peter was about to suggest that they sit down when Neal whispered something that Peter decided that he must have heard wrong.

"I'm sorry, did you…did you just say that Jake tried to drown you?" Peter asked in horror. "I thought he had taken you to the ring to fight in my place."

"No. Jake enter that fight for you."

"And then tried to kill you?" Peter asked not understanding the sequence of events.

"You were right, he's branded, and because of what happened with Sawyer York branded him again, it's broken him beyond his usual insanity, he thought if he killed me that you'd kill him, but I…I came so close to…"

"Easy, Neal. Slow down." Peter advised as Neal started to shake. "I don't care about Jake right now, we need to focus on you."

Lacking the energy to lie about being okay Neal closed his eyes and bowed his head in exhaustion. After giving Neal a second to collect himself Peter pulled him away from the door and helped him over to the large wool blanket. Sitting Neal down Peter went into the bathroom to retrieve the two stained but dry towels for Neal. When he returned Neal was in obvious distress. Pressing his hand into his chest in pain Neal stared up at Peter fearfully.

"Peter…I can't…I can't breathe…"

Joining Neal on the blanket Peter didn't need to touch his throat to know Neal's pulse was pounding, he could see the artery below his skin fluttering like a hummingbird's wing as Neal fought harder to get air. Neal's shallow quick breathing was made all the more alarming by a sudden coughing fit that resulted in a pink tinged froth. Peter wiped the tainted drool off Neal's lips and rubbed it on one of the already red marked towels before Neal had a chance to see the blood. Peter didn't want him being alarmed by the dangerous sign of secondary drowning.

"It's a panic attack." Peter lied. "You'll be okay, just try to relax."

"Okay." Neal nodded trusting Peter's diagnosis.

Still gulping for air Neal tried and failed to calm himself. Feeling helpless Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder and did his best to hide his own anxiety that was churning his already tumultuous stomach. He knew that in cases of a near drowning it was possible for the lungs to fill with edemous fluid even hours afterward. What Peter didn't know was what kind of survival rate could be expected when there wasn't any way to get proper medical treatment. Grimacing in rising pain Neal revealed crimson on his teeth in an amount that gave Peter another thought about its possible source.

"Neal, did you bite your tounge?"

Unable to answer verbally Neal nodded as he spat more blood. Peter relaxed slightly hopeful that much like is own previous pain that Neal's reaction was stressed induced from the recent trama and not his lungs becoming lethally congested. Neal's lips weren't turning blue which was also a positive sign. Just to be sure Peter leaned forward to put his ear to Neal's chest. Tilting his head back trustingly Neal allowed Peter to listen to his lungs. Pressed against Neal's chest at first all Peter could hear was the pounding of his heart, but after a moment of contact Neal's heart started to settle down.

"All clear." Peter assured.

"Thank you." Neal manged a slight smile even though he was still struggling.

Peter knew Neal wasn't out of danger yet but he was relieved not to hear any obvious crackling or wheezing. In any case the best Peter could do for Neal right now was make him comfortable. Taking the towels Peter helped Neal get at least somewhat dry, luckily the wool blanket was warm wet or cold unlike cotton. Backing himself against the wall that gave off a slight heat Peter invited Neal to lean against him. Although visibly nervous and restless Neal accepted the offer. With Neal shivering slightly Peter pulled the edge of the blanket up and over him. Peter hoped that once he was warm that Neal would manage to relax but Peter could feel his muscles pulled tight as he continued to pant heavily. Fearing that putting his arms around Neal would just make him feel more claustrophobic Peter rested his hands lightly on Neal's sides just above his hips. Peter winced at how prominent Neal's hips had become. At no point had Jake allowed them to run out of food, but at the same time what was provided wasn't particularly nutritious and neither one of them had much of an appetite either.

Neal leaned his head back against Peter's shoulder as he continued to labour for each breath. Closing his eyes Peter leaned his cheek against the top of Neal's head and tried to silently will him to calm down by attempting to do so himself. To Peter's surprise Neal did start to breathe easier. However just as he appeared to be falling asleep Neal jerked violently with a sharp gasp. Peter automatically wrapped his arms around Neal's waist causing him to cry out in terror.

Peter instantly released his hold on Neal when he reacted negatively to the increased contact but it was too late. Fully panicked Neal fought with the blanket ending up tangling himself in it in his efforts to get up. Failing to sit up Neal was forced to lay back against Peter once again and whimpered fearfully as his near death experience and fatigue stole his sense of security.

"It's okay, Neal, I'm here."

"Peter, promise me…" Neal had to pause to catch his breath "promise you won't give up on me."

"Neal," Peter said warmly "if I was ever going to give up on you it would have happened by now."

"I need to know that I'm not going to die at your hand."

"What?" Peter asked taken by surprise. He had assumed Neal had been speaking more figuratively than literal. "Neal…"

"Don't give up on me in some misplaced act of mercy." Neal whispered in a begging tone. "Help me fight to the last breath…promise me that you won't take it from me."

Peter fell silent for a moment out of sheer guilt. He had never planed on admitting it to Neal, but he had already spent some time contemplating if he had what it took to murder him 'for his own good'. Even though he knew he'd never have an answer until he was faced with the decision Peter had hoped that he would find himself capable if the situation was dire enough. He didn't want his own cowardice to allow Neal to pointlessly suffer, but now that the idea was out in the open it changed everything.

"Peter?" Neal asked anxiously.

"I promise." Peter said solemnly. "No matter what happens; you'll always be safe with me."

Content that he had Peter's word Neal relaxed noticeably. His breathing was still painfully labored but he lost the fearful tension in his mucles knowing that he wasn't going to be assaulted out of compassion. Even if Neal's lungs were in trouble Peter hadn't been any where near making that drastic of a move just yet, but he guessed that Jake had probably used the guise of mercy during the attempted drowning. It burdened Peter's heart that their pact had regressed from promising to escape together to promising not to murder one another, but at the same time it helped to have a clear plan for whatever the furture brought.

Trying to assure Neal that he was safe with him Peter reached up and ran his finger through the tangle of Neal's damp hair. Leaning into the contact Neal closed his eyes and sighed in relative contentment. Seeing that Neal reacted well to his touch Peter wrapped his other arm loosely around Neal's waist to keep from interfering with his breathing. Neal sought out Peter's hand and held it with a quick tight squeeze of gratitude. Keeping Peter's hand in his own Neal started to truly settle in despite the difficulty breathing. Peter stated taking slower more deliberate breaths himself hoping that Neal might start to mimic the gentle rise and fall.

Slowly Neal started to truly recover from his violent brush with death. It helped Peter relax when Neal managed to draw a deep breath as he yawned, proving that his lungs were doing their job. Peter had been trying to hide his stress before but with the close contact it was impossible to keep that negative energy from rubbing off on Neal. No longer as concerned with Neal's respiratory status Peter was able to calm his own racing heart which in turn soothed Neal's. Peter kept his fingers brushing through Neal's hair hoping to help him fall asleep but every time he came close he would tense up again.

"You're safe, Neal, I'll keep watch."

"I know, I just…" Neal paused unable to collect this jumbled thoughts. "I can't…I can't stop thinking about…"

"We can talk about it if you want to." Peter encouraged when Neal fell silent.

"I…I almost killed Jake." Neal admitted in a guilty tone. "We were fighting in the bath tub and I ended up on top and I held him down."

"You were just trying to protect yourself."

"That's not what's bothering me. I don't know. I've just never had anyone look at me with such terror in their eyes…for a moment…I…"

"You enjoyed it." Peter finished for him.

"He's made me feel so helpless that having the upper hand felt…" Neal stopped unable to finish the dark thought. "I couldn't go through with it, but part of me wanted to."

"It's okay, Neal. The important thing is that you didn't abuse your sudden advantage to kill. You made the choice to release him."

"I did."

"That says far about your character than a fleeting feeling that is completely understandable considering he has spent the last month doing everything he can to make you feel powerless."

"I know, but I can't help thinking that if I was down here alone like he is that I would turn out just like him."

"You're not alone." Peter reminded Neal as he held him tighter. "This is what's really keeping you awake, isn't it? You're worried about Jake."

"I am." Neal sighed as if it frustrated him. "York has twisted and broken him, he must have been down here for years, I don't think he eve really remembers what the sky looks like. It's amazing that he has any shred of humanity left in him, but he does, I've seen it."

"So have I." Peter agreed.

"I know this is going to sound a completely insane considering he just tried to kill me, but I want to help him."

"It doesn't sound insane at all, Neal." Peter smiled. "In fact it's just the opposite."

With his conscious more clear Neal started to drift back to sleep. Peter kept a careful watch over Neal with a comforting embrace until he finally slipped into a deeper sleep where he could get some actual rest. Once Neal was twitching slightly in REM Peter relaxed a bit. Looking over at the door Peter took a moment to try and process everything Neal had told him.

As much as Peter admired and even shared some of Neal's empathy towards Jake he couldn't just dismiss what he had done to Miller and the others that hadn't been lucky enough to charm Jake the way Neal had. Jake was a wounded animal and as such he was dangerous and needed to be treated as such. It would only take one slip in Jake's erratic temper to end everything in disaster.

"I want to help you, Jake, but only as long as Neal is safe from you. Understood?"

"…understood, Agent."

Jake's muffled answer coming through the door didn't take Peter by surprise. He had suspected from the start that Jake wouldn't want to be alone tonight even if it meant sleeping in the hall. Curling up a little more protectively around Neal Peter didn't even consider inviting Jake inside. He meant what he said about wanting to help him as a future concept, however the idea of being face to face with the man who tried to drown his friend while the event was still so fresh was more than Peter felt he could handle at the moment. The best thing Peter could do to help Jake right now was not tempt himself with the oppurtunity to kill him.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So I just realized that the other day was this story's 13th month anniversary! Thank you all for your support and love over the past year!

Chapter Forty-one

"I'm sorry, it's getting late, I should probably go home."

"Nonsense, Elizabeth, it's barely nine."

Knowing that she wasn't going to talk Elizabeth in coming up to the top of the stairs Asha came down and joined her at the bottom. Asha held her hand out for Elizabeth to shake with a warm open expression. Still feeling uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude Elizabeth accepted the offer. Asha's face lit up like she had just gotten a shy horse to finally take an apple from her hand.

"It's good to officially meet you, Elizabeth." Asha said. "I hate to admit it, but I have heard a little about you. I chastised Charles good for approaching you. He has been known to reach out to families now and then, but your situation is…a little different."

"He shouldn't even know about my husband." Elizabeth said with a colder edge to her voice than she had intended.

"I know." Asha agreed. "However he has a lot of connections and word does get around with such a high profile case. Nearly a million people go missing every year, but our community is still a fairly small and tightly knit one."

"It was still jarring to have him on my door step."

"I can't imagine. Although the real people that reach out to you from 'nowhere' that you have to be on guard for are the so called psychics. They are predators that love to bleed desperate family members dry."

"If any psychics show up I'll be sure to report them to the FBI." Elizabeth assured.

"Did you report Charles?" Asha asked with an amused grin.

"I did."

"Good." Asha winked. "Hopefully they sent an Agent around to shake some manors into him, maybe even a little respect for proper protocol. I swear that man does get on my last nerve every so often. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for everything he's done for me and the organization, but rich white guys can be more than a little entitled at times if you know what I mean and Charles is in no way an exception."

Elizabeth wasn't exactly sure how to respond however considering that a majority of the men that Peter arrested fit that description she did understand. As off put as Elizabeth had been by Charles she had to admit that she did find Asha's irritation with his actions comforting. Asha had an open honest air about her that gave Elizabeth the feeling that she was the kind of person who said exactly what was on their mind.

"I was about to head out to dinner, join me?" Asha asked hopefully.

"I…"

"Come on." Asha interrupted brightly. "There's a great little Italian place near by."

"Oh…I…uh…" Elizabeth hesitated with an uncomfortable flush to her cheeks as her heart suddenly raced painfully.

"I know that look," Asha smiled sadly "Italian means something to you and your husband, doesn't it?"

"First date." Elizabeth admitted quietly.

"I'm so sorry." Asha apologized.

"It's okay, you couldn't know."

"No, but I do understand. How about Thai?"

"Maybe I should just come back tomorrow."

"I think we both know that you won't." Asha said knowingly.

Elizabeth sighed in defeat knowing that Asha was right. Seeing that Elizabeth's defenses were weakening Asha took a step back with a bright smile and motioned for Elizabeth to join her. Elizabeth got the distinct impression from Asha's confidence that this wasn't the first time Asha had dealt with a hesitant client and that she was used to winning people over to her side. Not really wanting to go home and be alone Elizabeth was strongly considering accepting her offer even if she still wasn't sure if the woman could be trusted.

"I don't think you'll happy jumping right into a support group anyway," Asha pointed out when Elizabeth didn't make a move one way or the other "however, I know for a fact that some company tonight would do you good."

"I can't argue that." Elizabeth finally conceded.

"Wonderful." Asha's dark eyes lit up with what appeared to be genuine excitement. "This place has the best Rad Na in town. We'll make Charles pick up the tab for his little indiscretion."

"That's really not necessary."

"I know," Asha winked "that's what makes it fun. Let's go."

Asha turned towards their destination with her tightly curled hair bouncing with just as much energy as its owner. Finding her heart a little lighter from the woman's exuberance a smiled touched the corner of Elizabeth's lips as she had to walk at a fairly fast clip to catch up. Asha turned to look at her new companion once she had caught up with her bright smile shining against her dark face.

On the way to the restaurant Asha explained a little about the foundation's history. Elizabeth was surprised to learn that Charles Walker hadn't started the origination but rather had taken it under his wing ten years ago when it had been floundering financially after the sudden death of the original founder. Elizabeth's first instinct was that he had acquired it as a tax shelter or even straight out money laundering, but she knew that negative reflex was Peter's influence. His time with White Collar had made him highly suspect of the altruism of any one person shouldering the responsibility of a charitable organization.

Walker's motivations became a little clearer when Asha told Elizabeth that he had lost his brother at a young age after he had failed to return home from school one day. Once again Elizabeth had to restrain the thought that such a story was easily fabricated by anyone with even a mild amount of skill with forging identities as she decided that particular thought was mostly due to Neal's influence this time. Unable to get thoughts about how both the missing men would react to the situation Elizabeth became distracted to the point that she didn't even notice that Asha had stopped talking.

Accepting that her audience was lost in thought Asha had stopped her story, apparently without any malice to what would usually be considered rudeness on Elizabeth's behalf. Asha appeared comfortable with the silence that had fallen over them, but unsure of exactly how long that silence had lasted with her noticing Elizabeth found herself embarrassed.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth apologized.

"It's okay, I know how hard it can be to focus when you're under this kind of stress." Asha assured. "I have to admit that it never really gets any better, but the good news is that over time you do learn to hide it better."

Arriving at the restaurant the pair were quickly seated in a somewhat secluded booth table in the back. Asha asked Elizabeth if she was a vegetarian and when she said no the waitress just nodded and headed back into the kitchen showing that Asha brought people here regularly enough that they had her order on stand-by. Elizabeth didn't mind Asha ordering for her, she'd never had anything at a Thai restaurant that she didn't like so it didn't really matter what they brought out.

"I lost my son eight years ago, he was fifteen years old." Asha said suddenly with a heavy tone that contrasted with the easy going personality she'd shown so far. She was a we wearing a light cardigan that she pulled the sleeve up on showing old heroine track marks. "I was a terrible mother, Dace never even knew who his father was because I didn't even know. I was only seventeen when I got pregnant. I was so stupid, and I didn't smarten up until it was too late. I can't blame him for running away, assuming that's even what happened to him. Light for the Lost helped me clean up, gave me a job along with a purpose."

Asha paused her story for a moment as the waitress came back with two glasses of water for the table. Looking up at the waitress Asha flashed her a practiced smile that did little to hide the pain in her eyes. The waitress looked to Elizabeth with a moment of sympathy before she offered her a nod and left.

"Kanya, the waitress, know why you're here." Asha explained. "I hope you don't mind that you're not the first person I've lured here."

"I already suspected." Elizabeth said gently.

"It's never easy to come to Light for the first time, I know that reaching out feels like giving up in a way. Nothing could be further from the truth though. We have a lot to offer. Although I have to admit that your case is a little special and that a lot of what we do for other people you won't be able to take advantage of."

"What do you mean?"

"A major part of finding someone is getting word out there that they are missing in the first place. Publicity is a huge factor, which hard to get on your own. The media is only interested in very specific cases."

"No, no I can't let the media get a hold of this." Elizabeth said in alarm.

"Exactly, but for most people it's the opposite. They want as much exposure as they can get. Dace's disappearance barely got any attention from the police and the only time he ever appeared in the newspaper was when Light helped me by purchasing advertisements." Asha sighed. "Being a black male nearing the age of 18 and the son of junkie no one really cared to even try to look for him."

"That's terrible." Elizabeth said in horror.

"I used to be bitter about it, but with violent crime taking up resources I can understand no one having time for a kid that's nearly a man striking out on his own to get away from a terrible living situation. Not to say that there aren't racial and even gender discrepancies when it comes to what cases get attention because there is." Asha said in a tone that hinted that she held on to more bitterness than she wanted to admit to. "At any one time there is up to 100,000 open missing person cases and there just isn't the public man power to deal with the problem. It's actually one of the major ways Light for the Lost is really a huge help. Skiptracers are expensive and Charles has hired dozens of them for me and the others over the years."

"Skiptracers?"

"Professionals who find people. They are mostly used by collection agencies looking for debtors, but in cases of runaways often times they can produce good results. If nothing else it helps you feel like you're doing something."

"I wish I could do something…anything."

"You can't even hire someone privately, can you?"

"No." Elizabeth shook her head. "I shouldn't even be talking about this with you."

"That's a very lonely way to go through this." Asha reached out to put her hand over Elizabeth's but Elizabeth pulled away.

"The FBI has offered me counseling."

"That's not the same as being around people who have been where you are, and being able to talk to them."

"I don't want to do anything that could in anyway compromise the investigation."

"At least there is an investigation." Asha said trying to find the bright side. "I can't imagine that the FBI is going to rest with one of their own missing."

"Thirty-six days." Elizabeth whispered in misery. "They won't close the case until they have answers…but it's getting colder every day that goes by without any trace of them."

"Them?" Asha asked surprised.

"My husband and his CI were both taken." Elizabeth replied without thinking.

"Charles didn't give me that detail. Hey, we should set a skiptracer on his CI, he's not technically part of the FBI. I mean it's a bit of a loop hole inside of a gray area for sure but I'm sure I could talk Charles into it."

"No, please." Elizabeth begged.

"Elizabeth, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to. I promise."

"Thank you."

"Although I do feel I should ask…how much do you trust this other guy? I mean he is a criminal…"

"I trust Neal with Peter's life, and so does Peter."

"Then that's a good reason to have hope." Asha smiled warmly. "When it comes to making it through hard times two is always better than one."

"Is that a not so subtle suggestion that I'd be better off with you than on my own?"

"It is." Asha admitted shamelessly.

"I'm sorry, no matter how good your intentions are you can't help my husband's case." Elizabeth said as tears stung her eyes. "You can't help bring him back."

"I knew that from the very beginning."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because this isn't about Peter or Neal, this is about you." Asha said gently. "One of the hardest parts about having someone taken from you is accepting that it's not always about them, you're still important too."

"Asha…"

"Elizabeth, you deserve to be happy again. If I can just help you to believe that the rest will take care of itself. Trust me."

"What if I can't?"

"Believe or trust me?"

"Either, both...mostly the trust part." Elizabeth admitted.

"Hmmm, I have to admit this is a new issue for me. Usually it's the believing part. I'm not sure how to help with the trust part since I'm not used to being distrusted. I suppose you could ask yourself what would I gain from tricking you?"

"Inside information into the investigation of a missing Federal Agent."

"Wow, you had that answer quickly."

"I know it sounds paranoid and crazy."

"No, no...well maybe a little." Asha smiled. "I can understand your suspicions, Charles did come to with information he really shouldn't have which must have shaken some of your confidence in the FBI since someone there must have leaked it."

"Actually my real fear stems from the idea that they didn't."

"I don't undersa...oh, wait..." Asha's eyes widened as she realized what Elizabeth was implying. "I can't imagine Charles having anything to do with your husband's disappearance, but he did work for White Collar, right? I know charities can be abused. Was he investigating Charles?"

Elizabeth just stared at Asha.

"Right, don't answer that. Sorry. That would be exactly the kind of thing that would fall under 'inside information'."

Asha paused thoughtfully for a moment. Elizabeth was about to excuse herself and leave when the waitress returned with the Rad Na that Asha had ordered for them. Asha thanked the waitress and took a bite while she looked like she was honestly thinking over how to over come their trust issues. Although not particularly hungry Elizabeth did picked at the spicy dish while she tried to decide if she was being overly paranoid. After a few minutes Asha put down her fork and made a point to make eye contact with Elizabeth.

"You're an intelligent women, Elizabeth, I'm guessing dangerously so when you put your mind to it." Asha smiled mischievously in a way that sharply reminded Elizabeth of Neal. "Let's just say for Devil's advocate sake that Charles really did have anything to do with your husbands disappearance, if so then talking to you was an incredibly arrogant and stupid move."

"You did say that he was entitled, that tends to go hand in hand with arrogance."

"It does and he is, but that doesn't mean I think he's evil." Asha chuckled. "But I can still understand your predicament. How about this, let's turn the tables. Give you the power here."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking about hiring an assistant, how are your organizational skills?"

"I run an event planning company, or at least I did before all of this."

"Perfect. Start working with me, even if it's just a few hours a week. You can take a good close look at our books and if you see anything suspicious you can take it to the FBI."

"What?"

"If Charles is using Light for the Lost to launder money or hurt people then he's using me too and I want to know about it."


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-two

"Neal! Stay on your toes! Neal!"

Peter looked away as Neal failed to move out of the way quickly enough and ended up getting kicked in the stomach by his opponent; Slattery. The crowd's mock hiss of sympathy boiled Peter's already heated blood as they collectively enjoyed the blood sport at their feet without a trace of guilt. Although his opponent was a little smaller than he was Neal was not fairing well against the wiry man's vaguely mix martial arts type moves. Peter knew he wouldn't be doing any better against the quick less traditional fighting style either. Neal's only saving grace at the moment was that Slattery didn't have the physical mass to do too much damage but the kick had still doubled Neal over.

Already having been sucking for breath before Neal stumbled back gagging for air. In the two days since his near drowning Neal had increased difficulty breathing that Peter had suspected was far worse than Neal had been admitting to. Being forced to exert himself Neal couldn't hide how quickly he had started to pant and sweat as his already taxed body was pushed harder. Peter coughed against the back of his hand partly in empathy and partly from what he feared was his own slowly developing case of pneumonia. Having fought first Peter was only just now getting his breath back and it still felt somewhat like trying to breath through a wet sponge.

Glancing over his shoulder at Jake Peter noticed that he wasn't looking so good either. With his arms laced through the bars he was leaning against the cross bar with his forehead resting against one of the upright bars. With a glassy look in his eyes he wasn't watching the fight he was just staring at the dirty concrete floor. His pale skin glistened with a fine layer of sweat further betraying his deteriorating health. If Jake passed out Peter wouldn't be surprised. The two guards that always kept watch kept glancing at him since they were used to Jake being far more animated during these matches.

More concerned with Neal than Jake Peter turned away his attention back to the fight as the crowd roared in approval. Losing his temper or perhaps just fearing that he was going to run out of endurance Neal had more aggressively attacked Slattery and managed to knock him to the ground. Peter hated seeing Neal go on the defensive but it gave him a few moments rest while the other man got back to his feet. Neal seemed like he regretted the move as well, to Peter it looked like Neal was actively resisting helping Slattery back up.

Humiliated by ending up on the ground Slattery didn't need the assistance as sprung up and threw himself at Neal in a blind rage. Neal was able to back away from his first lashing swing but he wasn't as prepared for second attempt. Peter cringed as Neal was caught by a right hook to his jaw. Neal's head was turned violently by the blow, spraying sweat and blood tainted saliva, however as one of the stronger bones in the body Neal's jaw was far tougher than the delicate bones in Slattery's hand. Not having used good technique when he'd taken the swing Slattery howled in pain as he recoiled with his hand held protectively against his chest.

Looking a little dazed Neal made no attempt to take advantage of Slattery's injury and just stood his ground. With seven minutes still left in the fight the crowd started booing and cat calling at the pair as they just stared at one another. When a full minute passed by without any move by either party to continue the fight Neal looked nervously over his shoulder to make sure that Peter wasn't about to pay for the lackluster end of the fight. Peter quickly assured him he was okay and guided Neal to keep his eye on Slattery. Remembering how disastrous taking his eyes of Marco had been Neal snapped his attention back to Slattery.

"Jake," one of the guards spoke up "are you going to do something about this?"

"Slattery knows that if he doesn't get back in there he loses by default." Jake replied without much interest.

"So you're just going to let Caffrey stand there? Are you getting lazy or are you actually getting soft?" The guard mocked in a good natured tone. "Although I have to admit I can see why you'd fall for that one. What's the price tag on getting him for fifteen minutes outside the ring…or is he for your 'personal use only'?"

Momentarily distracted from the ring by the lurid turn in the conversation Peter happened to look back in time to see the murderous glare ignite in Jake's previously dead eyes. Tensing Peter back up against the bars fully expecting Jake to step into the cage to try and force him into encouraging Neal to fight. As much as he wanted to think that they had an uneasy truce Peter knew Jake couldn't afford to let that show in front of anyone who worked for York. Peter had managed to win his own fight without any major injuries but he was still too exhausted to be any kind of match against Jake.

Pushing himself away from the cross bar that he'd been using as support Jake calmly walked over to the guard that had questioned him. Without any warning Jake grabbed the man by the shoulders and drove his knee up into the guard's stomach. Not expecting the attack the ambush brought the man to his knees where Jake used the height advantage to grab his hair and yank his head back so he could repeatedly strike him in the face. Unlike Slattery Jake knew exactly how to use his fist as a weapon and the guard was quickly bloody and crying out for help.

The other guard had been so shocked by the sudden violence that it took him a second to react to it. By the time he rushed over to pull Jake off his coworker he was nearly unconscious. Before the second guard had a chance to touch him Jake snapped out of his psychotic rage and stepped back from his victim. Not wanting to incur Jake's wrath the second guard simply went to keep the first one from collapsing completely.

"Never tell me how to do my job." Jake growled darkly. "And 'yes' he's mine, they both are."

Peter had held his breath during the brief explosive interaction disturbed by how quickly Jake could still turn deadly. It was a far cry from the frightened man who had spent the past two nights sleeping against their door not wanting to be alone. Even if it had been somewhat in defense of Neal Jake's hair trigger temper was concerning. Peter had never been very clear on the dynamic between the guards and Jake, but considering the second one didn't seek any retribution it showed that Jake had some true authority down here despite being branded.

Jake wandered back over to the bars and leaned against them again as if nothing had happened. Peter watched him for a moment but Jake made it a point not to look up at him and just stared at the ground while the last minutes of the fight continued to count down. Jake did jerk his head up when there was a blood curdling cry from the ring followed by a roar of applause. Whipping around Peter only caught the tail end of what had happened as Slattery fought to free his broken hand from Neal's grip. Peter assumed Slattery must have gone to reenter the fight and that Neal had grabbed his injured hand in a desperate act to defend himself.

It was difficult to tell if Neal actually released Slattery or if the blood on his hands simply caused his grip to slip. Either way Slattery fell backwards and landed hard on his tailbone which judging from the screech he made had probably broken as well. With three minutes still left Peter expected Neal to stand his ground again, and for almost exactly thirty seconds he did but then he stepped towards Slattery with obvious and deliberate aggressive intent. Terrified by his approach Slattery stared up at Neal like a deer stuck in headlights. Slattery's submissive pose did nothing to stop Neal from clenching his fist as he prepared to attack him causing Slattery to put his uninjured hand up in a plea for mercy that Neal didn't look like he was going to grant.

"Neal!" Peter barked. "No!"

Jolted by Peter's voice Neal froze in place which gave Slattery a chance to react. Giving up on the fight Slattery scrambled back away from Neal to the booing and hissing of the disapproving crowd. Neal risked glancing over his shoulder again and when he saw Peter safe at the bars he didn't chase after Slattery this time. Two and half minutes was a long time to have nothing happen in a fight and after another minute of Slattery continuing to crawl away in surrender the judges of the fight made the decision to call it early and declare Neal the winner. The second the bell rang Neal turned on his heels and ran back over to the bars.

"Peter, are you okay?"

"Neal, what the hell was that?"

"I...I thought Jake was…"

"We'll talk about it later." Peter interrupted quickly realizing that Neal had overheard the violence behind the bars and come to a logical if faulty conclusion about it. "How's your jaw, it's not broken is it?"

"I don't think so." Neal replied before experimentally moving his jaw. "No, just sore."

"Good."

"Peter, what…"

Neal stopped as Jake entered the small cage to unlock the gate into the ring. Spotting the blood soaking Jake's fist Neal turned a concerned look on Peter. With Peter fresh from a fight himself it was impossible for Neal to tell if any of his new injuries had been inflicted by Jake when he'd first stopped fighting Slattery. Suspicious of Jake Neal didn't immediately step towards him to exit the ring.

"It's okay, Neal." Peter assured. "Come on."

Giving in for the moment Neal walked over to the uncharacteristically quiet Jake. Getting a closer look at Jake and the fact that he was barely on his feet Neal's concern switched to him as he tried to figure out what had happened while he was out in the ring. Not interested in explaining himself Jake just walked off back towards the tunnels expecting Neal and Peter to follow him.

"Jake didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No." Peter assured. "He went after one of the guards."

"What? I'm sorry, Peter, I heard fighting and he's used me to get you to fight in the past so I assu."

"I know, Neal, it's okay."

"It's not okay, I attacked Sla…"

"It's over." Peter interrupted again not wanting Neal to dwell on his actions. "It's just a broken hand, Slattery will be fine, don't worry about him."

"I'm more worried about myself. I..."

"You did what you thought was best."

Seeing that Neal didn't look very convinced Peter put his arm over his shoulder and guided him to follow Jake back to the elevator. They could talk about it later but right now Peter just wanted to get him safely back to their room. Jake had stopped halfway down the dank hall and was leaned against the stone wall waiting for them. As the pair caught up Jake leaned forward and struggled for a moment to push himself away from the wall. Unsteady on his feet he staggered forward.

"Jake?" Neal asked.

"Shut up." Jake snarled without looking back. "Slattery failed to break your face, but I won't."

Neal was a little taken aback by Jake's aggressive response until Peter pointed out the intersection just up head. They were about to turn down the hallway that had the elevator and there would be another of York's men waiting there. They couldn't afford to be caught helping Jake in front of him or even showing concern. Just before they turned the corner Jake made a point of putting his shoulders back. Jake's life had depended on his appearance of alpha dog status for so long that he naturally slipped into the role once more. The man at the elevator looked nervous as Jake approached, having already seen what kind of mood Jake was in when the bloodied guard had been brought through.

Peter had at first thought that the elevator operator might be the weakest point of their prison, but he had quickly learned that he was little more than an extra layer of protection. He didn't actually move the elevator he just made sure the right people got on and off. Inside was a camera that showed the operator which direction to run it. Interestingly enough Jake had made mention that the elevator camera was the only actual operable camera in the Labyrinth. The ones in the tunnels were fakes designed to make the unbranded men think that York was keeping an eye on them. In truth they didn't record because York feared that any kind of feed could be hacked into.

In the elevator Jake continued to stand tall but as soon as they were out and the door slid shut he had to brace himself against the wall. Peter allowed Neal to take a chance to approach Jake now that they were relatively safe in the Labyrinth. Neal hadn't lost his resolve to try and help Jake, however so far Jake had been keeping some distance between them. They could hear when he came and went from his place at the locked door, but it wasn't until it was time to head to the ring that he'd opened it. After having heard that Neal wanted to help him Peter wasn't sure what was keeping Jake licking his wounds in private but now seemed to be no exception as Jake jerked away from Neal.

"Don't touch me!" Jake snapped.

"Jake, you don't look well." Neal said gently.

"I'm fine." Jake hissed. "Let's just get you back to your room before Sawyer gets back, his fight is next and he's increasingly frustrated with not being able to take Peter on in the ring."

"So you're still setting the fights?"

"For now."

The anxiety in Jake's voice betrayed the fact that he was still very much on thin ice as far as York was concerned. Neal went to stay something more but Peter put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. Agitating Jake right now was likely to trigger his pent up rage again and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't take it out on Neal. As ill as he looked he was still powerful and even more unpredictable than usual. Giving into Peter's silent request Neal stayed by his side as they followed Jake back to the room. Unlike before when Jake allowed them to control the door lock now he always locked it from the outside.

Jake got them all the way back but after unlocking the door he dropped down to one knee with a cry of pain. Peter and Neal both stepped forward to help him back up but he blindly lashed out to keep them back. Neal looked to Peter for guidance on their next move. When Jake fought and failed to get back to his feet Peter ignored the possible repercussions and reached down to help him up. Jake didn't exactly accept the help but he didn't pull away until Peter had him on his feet. Jake was sweating heavily as his chest heaved for breath. Having gotten closer Peter could smell the distinct scent of rot and infection coming off a Jake.

"Get off me!"

"You're burning up." Peter said calmly. "You need help."

"I'm fine." Jake insisted stubbornly.

"Jake, have you changed your shirt since York bra…"

"No." Jake interrupted in a terrified voice before Peter could finish. "No…I…I can't. I can't look at it."

Peter sighed in empathy as he finally understood why Jake was insisting on keeping his distance. Unable to face the psychological pain of his injury he was ignoring it physically as well in a childish attempt to avoid dealing with either. He had known that if they had picked up on his infection sooner they would have insisted on tending to it. Peter cursed himself for not having thought of this sooner. The cotton of Jake's shirt was probably stuck to the burn by now leaving a perfect place for bacteria to breed out of control.

"Jake," Neal spoke up "we need to clean the wound."

"No, please…I can't."

"Not on your own you can't," Peter agreed "but we're going to help you through it."

"Trust us." Neal added.

"If York finds out…" Jake started to shiver in fear. "If he finds out you're helping me he'll re-brand you too."

"That's a risk we're willing to take." Peter confidently answered for them both. "More than that it's a price we're willing to pay."


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-three

"No, no, I…I changed my mind." Jake whimpered. "I can't do this!"

"Jake…" Peter started gently.

"No!" Jake shouted like a child not getting his way. "Take another step closer and I will kill you!"

"Jake, we're just trying to help." Neal assured.

"I don't care, get out of my way!"

Neal looked to Peter to see what their next move should be, he had no doubt that if further provoked that Jake would turn violent but at the same time just letting him go could be a death sentence for them all. If Jake died it would only make sense for Sawyer to take his place. Standing in the doorway into the large bathroom Peter was weighing his options and not looking like he was thrilled with any of them. Jake had peacefully followed Neal into the back room for medial attention but the moment he realized that he was trapped he had panicked. Staring Peter and Neal down Jake didn't look like he was interested in their help despite desperately needing it. When Jake narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders in preparation to attack Peter Neal stepped in between them to defend Peter, which further blocked the door from Jake's view.

"Neal, no, let him go." Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder before turning to Jake. "Jake, we're not going to force you into anything, but if you leave now you're just going to get worse."

Neal followed Peter's lead as he moved to the side to allow Jake to pass by if he wanted to. With a feral look in his eyes Jake's gaze shifted rapidly from the doorway to the two men as he struggled to make a decision. With sweat dripping off his fever heated skin Jake was locked in place; too desperate to leave, too afraid to accept help. Shaking heavily Jake reached up and hovered his hand protectively over the burn mark that was slowly killing him and shook his head slightly in stubborn refusal.

"Jake," Neal said softly "you've survived on your own for so long down here, don't give in when you're this close to not having to fight alone."

Jake stared at Neal as tears slipped down his face silently. Neal could see how much Jake wanted to trust in them, but could understand that after so long on his own that it might be hard to accept anything that even resembled hope. Hanging his head in exhausted defeat rather than in relief Jake sighed in misery before he sat down on the concrete floor. For as much as Jake had tormented him Neal still hated to see him looking so broken. Not really trusting that Jake was safe to approach Neal looked to Peter again for direction. Having the same uncertainly Peter hesitated, he clearly wanted to step forward first but he also knew that he was more likely to set Jake off than Neal was.

Neal could practically hear Peter's internal dilemma on the matter and solved it by cautiously walking up to Jake. Peter stayed back but kept on the balls of his feet in case he had to move in quickly to intervene. Neal found himself with a painful knot in his stomach as he knelt down in front of Jake. His instincts were screaming at him to keep his distance from the dangerous man that had mercilessly tortured him on several occasions and even admitted to enjoying it. Swallowing his fear Neal held out his hand, inviting Jake to take it as a sign of peace. Between his residual fear of Jake and coming down off the adrenaline of his last fight Neal couldn't keep his hand from trembling. Jake noted Neal's trepidation sadly before he glanced up at Peter who was still poised to defend Neal if he had to. Neal got the feeling that Jake didn't trust what was happening mostly because he didn't feel like he deserved it.

"Jake..."

"When you two first arrived down here I could see how bonded you were. I envy it even though I never thought it would last down here." Jake interrupted in a voice soaked in guilt "I saw instantly that what you had was beautiful and I wanted to destroy it. I had to prove to myself that it's every man for himself. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I turn you on each other."

"I think we all know now that that's never going to happen."

"It really isn't is it?"

"No." Neal smiled warmly "and since you can't beat us…"

Neal left the rest of the saying off as he encouraged Jake to join them by taking his hand. Although he still looked like he didn't believe in Neal's altruism Jake reached out and took Neal's hand. Neal wasn't sure what more he or Peter could do to prove to Jake that they wanted to save him but he felt like they at least had a start. Peter gave the delicate alliance a moment to solidify before he joined the pair and knelt down on the floor as well to bring himself eye level with Jake. Jake eyed Peter apprehensively at first but he eventually resigned himself to what had to be done.

"I'm sorry, Jake." Peter said genuinely. "I don't want to hurt you, but we have to get that shirt off."

"You can lean against me." Neal offered. "You can focus on me while Peter tears the shirt open, it will be quick."

"That's a good plan." Peter agreed. "It will be faster than trying to get it off over your head. Okay?"

Jake closed his eyes and nodded. Working quickly to keep Jake from losing his nerve or outright turning on them again Neal moved to sit down behind him and guided him to lay back. Jake whimpered in a combination of pain and fear as he laid down in Neal's lap. Offering him the support that he'd promised Neal put his hands in Jake's, but Peter shook his head at the move. Peter reached out and removed Neal's hands from Jake's grip and had Jake put his palms flat against the floor. Neal gave Peter a confused look that Jake picked up on.

"Peter's worried I might break your hands in a violent haze of pain." Jake explained having figured out Peter's motivation. "He's right. We can't have you ending up like Slattery, he'll probably live but you'd be a dead man with that injury."

Neal cringed with a pang of guilt radiating out from his chest at the mention of Slattery. Worrying about Jake had help distract him from the violent fight but it all came back to him at the mention of Slattery's name. He could still hear the sickening sound of Slattery's bone cracking against his jaw. Neal was suddenly haunted by the feel of the broken pieces of Slattery's hand shifting in his grip when he'd attacked him again. He hadn't even hesitated to go for Slattery's weakness when he'd thought Peter was in trouble. Neal was horrified by what he had done, but what was worse was the fact that he couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Even though he had misread the situation he had been instantly willing to inflict pain on someone else to save Peter, and he knew that if the situation arose again he would do it again in a heartbeat. Neal doubted he would have been that quick to respond to the same scenario with such cruelty a month ago. It terrified him that with Slattery he hadn't even tried to think of another solution. Jake had told him that violence was going to become part of his nature and now it was.

"Neal." Peter said to pull Neal's focus back to the present.

Neal looked up at Peter to let him know he was paying attention again. He knew he still had to work on coming to terms with the monster that growing inside of him, but that would have to wait. Peter gave him a concerned look but quickly hid it to keep Jake from picking up on the tension. Jake was shivering in Neal's lap as his anxiety mounted. Neal tried to help by putting his hands over Jake's; being careful to keep Jake from being able to accidentally grab a hold of them. Jake pressed his back into Neal in terror when Peter reached out and took a hold of the collar of his shirt in his hands. Peter was about to tear open the shirt but hesitated when he saw that Jake was staring down at his own chest. There was a real danger that looking at the fresh brand mark would be more than Jake's fractured psyche could take right now. Peter flicked his eyes up to Neal for help and Neal nodded his understanding.

"Jake?" Neal asked to get his attention.

When Jake automatically tilted his head back to look up at Neal Peter took advantage of the moment of distraction and ripped open Jake's shirt with a single powerful motion. Arching back Jake screamed in agony as the cotton tore away from the devastating burn in his chest. Neal was grateful that Peter had thought to take his hands out of Jake's as Jake clawed at the floor spasmodically. Looking down at the man writhing in his lap bile jumped to the back of Neal's throat as Jake's reopened wound erupted in a gruesome pool of fresh blood and dying flesh.

York had seared the brand far deeper than on either of them in an effort to make sure that Jake never forgot his place again. Jake cried out again, his voice cracking when he broke down into a bitter sobbing as his physical pain was compounded by the psychological strain. Desperate to help Neal brushed his hand against Jake's temple in a vain attempt to calm him. Still in the clutches of an overwhelming wave of pain Jake cried himself breathless. On the edge of permanent insanity Jake looked up pleadingly at Neal but there was nothing he could think to do to ease the pain he was in. Feeling helpless Neal stared down at Jake with sorrowful empathy only to be surprised when Jake suddenly lost the fear in his eyes. A bright smile lit up Jake's face for a split second before he relaxed and mercifully passed out. Dazed from the events Neal stared up at Peter for answers.

"W…why did he smile at me? I didn't do anything."

"You were there for him, that's far from nothing."


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-four

Opening his eyes Peter tried to determine if he had actually slept or not. In the end it didn't really matter Peter just hated how he'd lost his sense of the passage of time. Even though the exact date eluded him he knew they must have been trapped down in the Labyrinth for over a month, and if that math was correct it meant his and Elizabeth's wedding anniversary was quickly approaching. Peter's heart ached over the fact that it was going to be impossible for him to tell when the actual day came and went. He knew their anniversary was going to be a particularly difficult day for Elizabeth among a string of already stressful days, but for him there was going to be no way mark the day as special.

With thoughts of Elizabeth causing him a heart racing anxiety Peter focused on Neal who was sleeping soundly against his chest. Despite his calm now Neal hadn't been easy to settle down after they had cleaned up Jake. Tearing open Jake's shirt had not only revealed the gruesome brand but numerous other scars and bruises including several marks from the tazer that mimicked the ones that Neal still wore from his painful encounters with Jake. It was only at that moment that Peter had noticed that York had taken away both the tazer and the night stick from Jake. Along with the rebranding it was a dangerous sign that Jake was quickly losing favor with their captor. Neal had traced around one the tell tale starburst electrical burns on Jake's skin, staring at them in a near trance like state.

"Neal," Peter had said to get his attention "I know what you're thinking, but just because you've been through similar experiences doesn't mean you're going to react the same."

Neal had nodded but he didn't look very convinced as he reached up and absent mindedly rubbed at his sore jaw. Peter wished he hadn't gotten distracted by Jake when Neal had been in the ring with Slattery. The fight was affecting him more than even the gruesome battle with Marcus. Had he been paying attention he would have been able to stop Neal from thinking that he had attack Slattery again. Throughout his entire criminal life the one hallmark that had always remained unbroken was his commitment to non violence to the point where he instantly severed ties with any accomplice that broke that rule in any way. Now that value was being pushed to the extreme and Peter could see that Neal felt that he was failing to uphold himself to his own standards. Even though Peter knew that Neal fundamentally understood the difference between what he was doing and being willfully aggressive towards innocent victims it didn't seem to be helping him cope with his actions.

After patching Jake up as best he could Peter had moved him into the front room and laid him down on the blanket. Spiking a dangerous fever Jake was locked in an unnatural sleep. Worried that Jake might be succumbing to shock but not knowing what to do about it Peter had returned to the bathroom and found Neal still sitting on the floor staring at the blood on his hands with a horrified blank expression. Fearful that Neal was close to psychotic break Peter reached down and took Neal's bloodied hands and helped him to his feet. Guiding Neal over to the sink Peter turned the warm water on and washed the blood off both their hands.

Hoping that exhaustion was at least part of Neal's problem Peter lead him out to where Jake was resting. Peter had hoped that Neal would quickly fall asleep once they were situated in the corner but he kept twitching and jolting as his mental agitation translated into frustrated motion. Nearly delirious with fatigue himself Peter fought to stay awake so as not to leave Neal alone with his thoughts.

"Neal, you didn't do anything wrong with Slattery."

"I can still feel his bones shifting in my hand, he tried to pull away and I instantly tightened my grip." Neal whispered in misery. "I could have just hit him, I didn't have to cause him pain like that to keep the fight going."

"You're adrenaline was high at the time, you weren't thinking clearly." Peter pointed out. "The fact that it still upsets you is the important part."

Neal nodded again but remained restless. Peter stayed silent for a few minutes giving Neal some time to process his thoughts. It didn't take long for Neal's already labored breathing to become increasingly ragged as his anxiety continued to spiral out of control. Hearing the wet raspiness of Neal's breath gave Peter a new terrifying thought as to why Neal's stress levels were skyrocketing. If Neal's lungs were continuing to congest with sickness the oxygen levels in his blood would be dropping which would be accompanied by panic. Unable to do anything for Neal medically Peter tried a new tactic to help him through.

"I think it's time for you to start thinking about all of this as just another long con, a persona you have to wear to get a job done." Peter suggested.

"That's a thought." Neal agreed quietly.

"I can call you 'Ryan' if it helps."

"Wha…you know about Ryan?"

"I do." Peter nodded.

"I have to say Peter, I'm really impressed." Neal managed a rueful chuckle. "Ryan was a very deep cover alias of mine."

"I know. You used Ryan on jobs you weren't proud of, crimes you deemed less 'victimless' than your usual con. I couldn't prove it obviously, but I knew it was you."

"How?"

"'Ryan' had your same style but none of your usual enthusiasm."

"I always hated Ryan."

"I could tell, but he's not who you are and neither is this."

Finally finding some relief from his obsession over Slattery Neal sought out Peter's hand and squeezed it gratefully. With Neal calming Peter was able to relax the knot that had been firmly tied in his stomach. When Neal didn't still fall asleep right away Peter encouraged him to roll over on his side so that Neal ended up with his ear over Peter's heart. Peter reached up and gently put his hand over Neal's other ear so that he could concentrate on the soothing heartbeat sound. The trick had worked and Neal had finally fallen asleep.

Peter guessed that he hadn't been far behind as far as falling asleep. What he didn't know was how long he'd been out. Not about to move and disturb Neal now Peter just stared at the far wall trying not to let thoughts of Elizabeth upset him too much. Thinking about her was always a catch 22, remembering that she was waiting for him help keep him fighting, but it was painful to think of what she must be going through; particularly as time passed with no answers. Closing his eyes again Peter let a few tears slip down his cheeks unchecked.

When Peter heard a light whimper he snapped out of feeling sorry for himself and pressed his hand against Neal's lower back to try and calm him. However a repeat of the noise informed him that it wasn't Neal that was struggling with a nightmare. Peter looked down at Jake who had moved closer during the course of the night so that his back was up against Peter's leg. Peter had become so used to sleeping with Neal's weight against him that he hadn't even noticed the extra contact from Jake.

Jerking like a dog chasing a rabbit in his sleep Jake cried out quietly again. Peter reached down and pushed gently on Jake's shoulder to wake him. Jake arched back in response to being touched but he didn't wake. His skin still burned with fever as his body railed against its recent abuses. Rather than try harder to rouse him Peter carded his hand into Jake's hair a few times to try and settle him down. It took a moment but Jake eventually calmed, however, as soon as Peter took his hand away he started to shiver and mewl once more. Sighing heavily Peter rested his hand on Jake's shoulder to keep him comfortable.

With both Neal and Jake clearly needing a few more hours of rest Peter tried to convince his body that he should do the same. Peter had almost succeeded in drifting off when an out of place sound prickled his skin with a wash of adrenaline. Opening his eyes again it took him a moment to realize that what he was hearing was footsteps out in the hall. With Jake here and the door locked there shouldn't be anyone who could disturb them but that didn't keep him from holding his breath while he waited for the intruders to pass by.

The grinding sound of a key in the lock shot a jolt right down Peter's spine. He tried to wake Neal as he struggled to sit up a little straighter under his dead weight. Completely lax Neal revealed that he wasn't just sleeping, he was fully unresponsive. Unable to get to his feet in time Peter wrapped his arms protective around Neal as the door opened. With Neal and Jake both out cold all three of them were going to be easy prey. Peter's panicked mind had expected to see Sawyer step through the door so when three strangers followed by a well dressed older man entered instead he just stared at them blankly in shock. It wasn't until the leader of the group spoke that Peter was able to identify the man having instantly recognized the voice.

"Hello, Agent."

"York…"


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-five

"Well, don't you three look cozy."

Pinned into the corner by Neal and Jake Peter didn't respond to York's mocking tone. Being grievously out numbered by the four guards York had brought with him Peter knew that snarling insults at York wasn't going to help their situation. Making demands or threats were going to be pointless with a man like York as well. Unexpectedly face to face with their captor Peter's only real goal was to keep a physical fight from breaking out at all costs. When dealing with Jake in the beginning it had been important to be aggressive and dominant to maintain his respect. With York Peter felt the opposite approach would work best, York was only going to respond well if he was given the impression that he was respected or outright feared. Preying on that psychology to keep their encounter as conflict free as possible Peter made a show of pushing his back harder into the corner and pulling Neal closer to his chest. York relaxed his shoulders slightly as he fell for Peter's broken wing act.

"If you really want to protect your friend you should kill Jake while you have the chance." York advised conversationally. "He might look helpless now, but as soon as he's strong again he'll turn on you once more."

"I'll take my chances."

"Of course you will." York smiled patronizingly. "Do what you want with Jake, just don't say I didn't warn you. In any case, I didn't come down here because of him. I'm here because I want to make a deal with you."

"What do you want from me?" Peter sighed.

"Really?" York raised a surprised eyebrow. "Just like that? I expected at the very least to hear 'The FBI doesn't negotiate with kidnappers'."

"I'm trying not to antagonize you." Peter said truthfully.

"I would just threaten Caffrey at any hint of resistance so any bluff you attempted would just be instantly called." York mused as if he was thinking of it for the first time. "Cooperation makes sense, seeing as you are in a bit of a lose/lose situation."

"I am."

With the simple admission of hopeless defeat Peter broke eye contact with York and looked down at Neal. Despite the peaceful look on his face Neal had the quick shallow breathing of someone in pain. With a look of concern that he didn't have to fake Peter tightened his hold on Neal's lower back with one arm as he reached up with his other hand and rested the back of it against Neal's cheek in a vain attempt to calm his panting. It had taken days, but Jake's near drowning was finally catching up with Neal and without York's help he wasn't going to make it much longer. Peter was willing to do or say anything to get that help and he already suspected that York was in the mood to take advantage of that.

When Neal coughed weakly Peter looked back up at York fearfully in hope of sparking some mercy in their captor. Peter wasn't sure if York was even capable of empathy or if triggering it would help their situation any, but for the moment it was the only move he had. York said nothing for a minute as he stared down at the men he was slowly letting die. Peter flicked his gaze up towards the bright bare light bulb in the ceiling to help his performance by brightening his eyes with tears. York furrowed his brow at the open show of emotion leading Peter to think that he might be getting somewhere, but a cruel smile suddenly spread across York's face.

"Did the Agency teach you your acting skills or is this something you picked up from Caffrey?" York asked sounding impressed. "You are very convincing, Burke, but you can drop the act. You're not going to get out of this by appealing to my 'human' side the way you did with Jake. The fact of the matter is that you are simply not getting out of this."

"Then what makes you think I'm going to bother making any deals with you?" Peter growled forgetting his temper for a moment.

"Because you want Caffrey to live as long as possible under the delusion that you're somehow increasing his chances of rescue. You were willing to humiliate yourself by pretending to be afraid of me to achieve that goal so I'm guessing you're going to be open to my offer." York noted. "I must say that I do respect your loyalty, and that I honestly didn't expect it. I thought by now you would have turned to concentration on your own survival, but not only do you continue to put his safety first but now you've taken on Jake as a project as well despite what he is."

"He's a victim, it's my responsibility to protect him."

"Admirable." York nodded in approval. "Foolish, but admirable. Still all of this has lead me to believe that you can be reasoned with, hence my unprecedented visit. I was hesitant to bring you down here, but I am making an astonishing amount of money off your fights. Caffrey's too for that matter. Honestly things had been getting a little stale around here before you two. Criminals beating up on other criminals is fine and all, but having someone who represents law enforcement has attracted a new level of clients. And Caffrey…well let's face it people love watching beautiful people no matter what they are doing."

"I don't care about your business model." Peter said flatly. "What do you want?"

"I want better control of what fights you lose. I can't openly fix fights without risking some potentially disastrous backlash so I can't influence your opponents other than guessing who will make a good match for you. What I can do is control you."

"You want me to throw fights?" Peter asked surprised by the simple request.

"Exactly. A little old school I know, but the classics are just that for a reason."

"This can't just be about money."

"It's not." York assured. "Like I said you have attracted some new clients and I very much would like some of them to be hopelessly in debut to me."

Peter took a breath to say 'yes', not caring about what fights he won or lost as long as he could get Neal help in the process, however he was interrupted by York before he got the chance.

"Caffrey's actually dying, isn't he?" York asked with an edge of surprise to his voice. "At first I thought he was part of your act, but we've been talking for a good five minutes and he hasn't even come close to waking up. Jake's just pretending to be asleep, but Caffrey is profoundly passed out."

Startled by York's observation of Jake Peter automatically looked down at him. Having been caught in his lie Jake started shaking in fear. Losing interest in his original mission York called for Jake to get up. Peter's stomach twisted painfully in sympathy as Jake instantly started dry heaving. York calmly called Jake's name again and Jake forced himself up to his hands and knees. He stared at Peter with the desolate look of a dog that didn't want to obey an abusive master but was on the verge of yielding simply because he didn't know any other life.

"Jake, get over here." York ordered a little more firmly.

"York, please, just leave him alone."

"Stay out of this Burke or I will ensure Caffrey never wakes again."

Peter didn't think that York's threat was an idle one and had no choice than to back down. However he did reach out and put his hand over Jake's in a show of support. Still on his hands and knees Jake looked down at Peter's hand and smiled sadly. The four men that stood by silently waiting for York's word looked like they were excited for the chance to pounce on Jake if he continued to stall and they all shifted their weight slightly as they prepared to attack. Sensing the increased energy in the room Jake finally got to his feet to prevent being dragged over to York. Stepping up to York Jake stood trembling with his head bowed as York looked him over critically. York had said that he hadn't come down here for Jake but Peter got this distinct feeling this show of power was a large part of why he was showing his face. His Labyrinth had started to show some cracks and he was here to set things back on track starting with his main weapon.

"You almost killed that guard you assaulted over a little sexual innuendo."

"I…I'm sor…sorry." Jake stuttered in terror.

"Sorry?" York sighed in theatrical exasperated disappointment. "You know that you being an unpredictable violent psychopath is the reason I've kept you alive all these years. Flying into a bloodthirsty rage is the only thing keeping me from leaving you in a dark room to slowly starve to death. Word has spread about your little outburst and its helping me keep order down here. No one wants to mess with you, you should be proud of that. You're valuable to me, Jake, but only if you accept what you are."

Jake jolted with a yelp when York suddenly reached out and ripped off the large bandage that Peter had placed over his brand. Being forced to look at the damning mark Jake started hyperventilating. Peter hated just standing by watching York tightening his psychological grip on Jake but he had to think of Neal and any interference into his business was just going to cause York to turn on him. With an oddly gentle touch York reached out and slipped his hand under Jake's jaw to guide him to look away from the brand and up at him.

"Jake, have I ever forced you to torture anyone?"

"No." Jake admitted quietly.

"Have I ever forced or even asked you to murder anyone?"

"…no."

"Who's idea was it that you work for me to keep order down here and ensure the branded perform in the ring?"

"Mine."

"And I've never regretted that decision." York smiled warmly. "I still don't."

Jake flashed York a confused looked before glancing back at Peter and Neal. Jake's attention was quickly pulled back to York when one of the other men stepped closer when York signaled him. Cowering slightly from the man who had helped York brand him Jake was hesitant to take the metal baton and tazer that he was suddenly being offered. Going from stern master to warm father York worked carefully to manipulated Jake back into his old role.

"Take them." York encouraged. "I don't mind you making friends with Caffrey and Burke, I encourage it. I've never tried to stop you from befriending any of the branded, that's always been all you. Just keep the order and keep them entertaining in the ring. Outside of that I don't care what you do. This is your domain."

"Wha…what about Sawyer?" Jake asked hesitantly.

"Sawyer's no longer in the running for your job." York smiled coldly. "We had a disagreement."

Nodding vacantly Jake took the weapons being offered to him and held them tightly to his injured chest as he took a few steps back away from York. Peter wasn't surprised by York's move to take Jake's only means of defense and power away from him only to quickly grant it back. It would give Jake a true sense of getting a second chance and make him more eager to prove himself. What Peter didn't understand was York allowing Jake to continue to associate with them. The closer he allowed Jake to get to them the less likely he was to be loyal to York. Drawing his attention back to Peter York slung a confident smile across his face.

"I know you think I'm making a mistake, Agent, but no matter how much you think you're making an ally with Jake he will murder you both in a heartbeat if I promised him even just a glimpse at the sky in return."

The hopeful gleam that sparkled in Jake's eye for a second at the mere mention of such a promise demonstrated just how powerful York's hold was. York didn't mind conceding Jake making friends, he was fully confident in his control of him. Grinding his teeth in frustration Peter still remained determined to pry Jake out of York's abusive grip as best as he could, if for no other reason than it was the right thing to do. If York could read Peter's intentions he didn't show any concern over them.

"Never mind about Jake, let's get back to what we were discussing. Caffrey is clearly at death's door, Jake is also open to infection at the moment, and those red streaks running up your arm from that bite are going to go septic soon." York listed in a matter of fact tone. "Here is my deal, take it or leave it: lose the fights I choose in a convincing manner, make every effort to win the ones I don't mark for failure and in return I will get all three of you proper medical care and some real nutrition."

"Neal needs antibiotics now, he can't wait until my next fight."

"Just give me your word that we have an understanding and I'll have an IV in him in the next half hour."

"You have my word."

"Wonderful. It's been a pleasure doing business with you Agent."

York offered Peter a shallow bow as if they had just concluded a board meeting and just as quickly as he had come he was suddenly gone. Panting heavily Jake remained standing in the middle of the room with metal baton and tazer still clutched to his chest despite the pain it must be causing his brand that had started to drip blood again. Feeling claustrophobic under Neal's weight, and knowing that at least someone was going to invade their room again soon, Peter carefully got out from underneath him and laid him out on the blanket. It was only when he could feel the cold air in the room that Peter realized just how high his own and Neal's temperature had gotten. Glancing at the red lines creeping up his arm from the bite wound that refused to heal he wasn't far from being just as critical as Neal had become.

Even though he couldn't hear him Peter assured Neal that he was going to be okay in as convincing a voice as he could muster. Reaching down Peter carefully brushed Neal's dark sweat drenched hair off his forehead. Realizing that Jake was still standing frozen to the floor Peter looked up at him and silently encouraged him to step closer. Looking wary and guilty all at the same time Jake didn't move. Eventually he glanced at the door and then down at the weapons he was holding before making deliberate eye contact with Peter.

"I would do it. You know that, right?" Jake whispered. "You know I would kill you both if it meant that York would let me see the sky again."

"I know." Peter nodded. "Come, sit by Neal, I'll get another bandage for your chest."

"What? H...how can you still trust me knowing I would turn on you like that?"

"Because that's how you get people to not turn on you. Trust never starts balanced, someone has to take the first risk."

Jake furrowed his brow at Peter's logic but after he had a moment to understand it he smiled and stepped closer. Tucking the weapons into his back pockets he sat down cross legged next to Neal. When Jake reached out to touch Neal it was difficult for Peter to live up to his speech on trust, but he peacefully allowed Jake to make contact. Resting the back of his hand against Neal's forehead Jake cringed at his fever.

"At least our Sawyer problem is solved." Jake said sounding relieved.

"Even if he's not next in line to take over the Labyrinth he's still a threat, he is not going to stop coming after me."

"You misunderstood the conversation. If York and Sawyer had a 'disagreement' there is only one way it could have ended."

"You think York killed Sawyer?"

"I guarantee you that he did."

"Why?"

"Why else? To protect you."


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I hope this all makes relative sense because I'm on new allergy medications. ;)

Chapter Forty-six

Sitting at the long glass table in the White Collar conference room Mozzie put the file he had been reading down with a heavy sigh. Pushing his glasses up he rubbed at his sore eyes. It was getting to the point where it was a toss as to if they were up really late or early. Since technically he wasn't supposed to be looking over these case file they had to do it well after hours to make sure of privacy. Sitting around the table Hughes, Jones, and Diana were doing their best to help by screening Neal's notes for certain phrases that Mozzie had listed as wordage that Neal tended to use when trying to avoid the whole truth.

What Mozzie hadn't been prepared for was the sheer quantity of information that they had to sift through. Since no one case had stood out at first that meant that any case could have been the ember that started this fire. So they decided to start with their most recent one and just work backwards from there. With no clear motive or exact time table they were being forced to check everything. There was also always the chance that Anthony was a red herring and even though Mozzie knew when he'd shown back up he didn't have a good idea of just how long he'd been missing. The FBI had already looked into a lot of these cases, but Mozzie was determined to do it again. They had spent several late nights pouring through both Neal and Peter's notes in the off chance that something jumped out at them. So far even though Mozzie had found some obvious discrepancies in Neal's narrative nothing had provided anything even close to a solid lead.

"I can't believe Peter managed to force Neal into writing such detailed accounts of everything." Diana said wearily as she put her own file down.

"No one forces Neal to do anything he doesn't want to do." Mozzie said automatically.

"Are you saying Neal, Neal *Caffrey*, actually enjoyed and took pride in his paperwork?" Diana asked with doubtful sarcasm.

"No." Mozzie shook his head. "But he always enjoyed trying to best Peter at his own games long before he was even arrested. It's like a hobby of his."

"That's true." Diana chuckled. "I always thought of them as pretty much polar opposites but they certainly shared a competitive streak."

"Neal wasn't about to let Peter be better at writing up cases, even if it meant more work." Mozzie agreed. "Which is good and bad."

"Yeah," Jones spoke up "I'm finding these key phrases of yours everywhere. So either Neal was doing a lot more double dealing behind Peter's back or…"

"Or Neal was purposefully peppering his reports with this kind of language from the start to keep Peter from picking up on a pattern." Mozzie finished with a sigh. "Neal was never one to underestimate Peter, he must have planed ahead for any 'half truths' he needed to fall back on."

"Where does that leave us?" Hughes grumbled as he finally closed the file he was reading. "Does this mean we'll never find the case we're looking for?"

"I'll find it." Mozzie said confidently. "Neal's not that good. He can't fool me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"No." Mozzie admitted.

Pulling another case file off the pile Mozzie went back to scrutinizing the syntax of Neal's reports searching for any clue as to which one caused them to cross paths with the wrong person. Peter and Neal worked to take down rich and powerful men every day, but the sentencing for White Collar crimes tended to be relatively minimal and not worth risking such violent revenge over. More to the point the ones that got away through skill of their high priced lawyers wouldn't have any reason to risk bringing the full weight of the FBI down on them, and the ones that lost a majority of their ill begotten wealth because of their arrest wouldn't have the means to arrange to have the pair so skillfully abducted.

Starting to get blurry eyed again Mozzie picked up one last file to comb through before he was willing to think of calling it a night. Neal's account of the events didn't throw up any red flags at first until he came across the term 'unverified tip' that had lead to the arrest. Unverified was not the same as anonymous, anonymous would imply that Neal didn't know whoever offered the tip. Using the phrase unverified was much more open to interpretation, which was exactly the kind of thing that helped Neal keep his conscious clear. Suddenly feeling wide awake Mozzie flipped to Peter's side of this story only to discover that the man arrested hadn't been the original suspect, the tip had steered them in a different direction, possibly away from Anthony. The details of the crime certainly sounded like something Anthony would be mixed up in.

"Marcus Collins…" Mozzie read the name out loud.

"Collins, I know that name," Hughes mused "something about gambling?"

"Numbers racket." Mozzie nodded. "A fairly significant one, but nothing earth shattering."

"That's right. Peter was annoyed with that case, I remember now. The DA let Collins walk."

"Why?"

"That was part of what upset Peter, they wouldn't tell him. It was assumed Collins made some sort of deal, but the DA was in no mood to share the particulars. Since Collins wasn't worth calling in any favors over he dropped it."

"Peter dropped something?" Mozzie asked skeptically. "That doesn't sound like the Suit I know."

"We get dozens of cases and hundreds of leads across our desk every day, we can't constantly be looking back once a case is cleared. Particularly the smaller ones." Hughes said defensively. "Peter did his job and moved on. The FBI doesn't prosecute cases, we gather evidence, make the arrest, and the DA's office takes it from there. Collins wasn't all that special, just another hustler."

"Still…"

"Wait, I've got something." Diana announced staring at her phone that she had been searching on for something. "I thought the name Collins sounded familiar as well, but something more recent. I saw it in the paper two weeks ago."

"Who reads the paper any more?" Mozzie questioned.

"I do, I like the feel of the paper and I tend to remember it better than if I read it on a screen."

"That doesn't make any sense, you lean better if text doesn't glow?"

"Hush. Here it is: 'Philanthropist and CEO of Hedgewell Prime Broker Harold Collins Found Dead.'"

"Harold Collins?" Jones asked. "Any relation?"

"Either a relation or an amazing coincidence." Diana said as she read the start of the article. "'Harold Collins was found dead this morning in what is being ruled a suicide. This is following the tragic death of his son, Marcus, in June during a mugging and the disappearance of his wife, Emily, in 2003.' There really isn't any detail beyond that, the rest reads like an obituary, but that's a lot of bad luck for one family, and assuming it is the same Marcus Collins it's a little odd that the son of a multi millionaire would be bothering with running a numbers racket."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, someone Peter arrested was *murdered* and no one brought this to your attention when he and Neal ended up missing? Or even when it happened in the first place?" Mozzie demanded accusingly of Hughes. "Marcus Collins was arrested on June 22nd, that doesn't leave a whole hell of a lot of June for him to happen to just end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had to have happened right after the DA let him 'walk'. How can you not know anything about this?"

Hughes didn't have an answer, from the pensive look on his face he was wondering the exact same question that Mozzie was. He couldn't be expected to keep track of every death in New York but when the hunt for Peter and Neal began it should have been flagged by someone.

"This wasn't a mugging gone wrong this was a deliberate murder, a murder right after he was 'released'. You know it can't just be a coincidence." Mozzie pressed. "I can't imagine you didn't go directly to the DA's office to ask if anything out of the ordinary happened with any of Peter's cases recently, they should have mentioned this. The DA's office got Marcus killed, and then they were covering their own ass when you came around. The DA used him as bait and they failed to protect him. With the emotional element to this case I bet Collins was out for revenge after the DA got his son killed."

"But this was all months before Peter and Neal were taken." Jones pointed out. "Why go after them now?"

"Or even why go after them at all?" Diana added. "You keep saying 'the DA' and that's exactly right, Peter and Neal didn't make any deals with Marcus, they didn't have anything to do with what happened."

"But they started it." Mozzie said. "If they hadn't arrested him in the first place he wouldn't have ended up dead. They were the first domino. The DA's office is just a faceless entity to the public, it's not satisfying to go after an organization when the matter is a personal one. Peter and Neal are specific targets that could be more easily identified, more easily blamed."

"No." Diana shook her head. "That's insane. Who thinks like that?"

"A grief stricken father." Hughes answered simply.

"Exactly, with the added guilt that his son ended up turning to crime in the first place. This is it, this is the case," Mozzie said gripping the file tightly "this is the one that going to help us find Neal and Peter."

"But Harold Collins is dead, if he…"

"He didn't take them himself." Mozzie interrupted. "The man Anthony is afraid of isn't the kind of person to take their own life. Collins paid someone, he had to have."

"Finding someone to take on a job like this wouldn't be easy or cheap." Jones thought out loud as Mozzie's theory started to slowly make more and more sense.

"Which makes the fact that it took a few months to react all that more plausible." Diana agreed.

"Anyone deranged enough to seek out revenge like this can't be stable," Mozzie said "he would have obsessed for months which may have left a trail."

"And when lashing out at Peter and Caffrey didn't take away the pain of losing his son he turned the gun on himself." Hughes speculated.

"And Collins would have had the wealth to make this happen." Mozzie said.

"That kind of transaction would leave a mark no matter how hard you tried to hide it." Jones said.

"It's not going to be easy to get a warrant for his personal and business finances with only circumstantial evidence of a connection, but I will make it happen." Hughes said firmly. "If he paid someone off we'll find it."

"I have to admit that I always assumed this was personal against either Peter or Neal or even both. I never really considered a hired middle man." Diana said. "Who would be brazen enough to kidnap a Federal Agent on behalf of someone else?"

"Someone so far above the law that he's probably hiding in plain sight." Mozzie replied sourly.

"No one is above the law, some just skirt it better than others." Hughes said firmly. "We are going to find this guy and have justice for Peter and Caffrey if nothing else."

"You do realize that what it is going to take to find him will probably create a veritable M. C. Esher-esk amount of loop holes for his lawyers to help him escape through?" Mozzie said darkly. "Finding him and getting justice might be mutually exclusive goals."

"Finding Peter and Neal is more important than getting a conviction." Diana replied.

"I wholeheartedly agree. The question you need to ask yourself right now is how far are you willing to skirt the law to find out what happened?" Mozzie continued. "I hate to say it, but I'm afraid none of this bodes well for Neal and Peter to still be alive, but at least it means there is still someone out there alive who knows what happened to them. Someone with answer, someone who can provide closure for Elizabeth and the rest of us. Personally I'm going to do whatever it takes get that closure. I can't not know what happened, and I can't let Elizabeth live with that pain either. However, I don't have a cushy Federal job and pension to lose. I want to continue to work with you all, but I want to be up front that I'm not letting red tape or waiting for warrants stand in my way."

"I'm already past the point of no return just letting you look at these files let alone hunting down leads because of it considering I've already been ordered off this case. I'm in this until I lose my job, and if I have even a shred of power to keep searching after that you can be damn sure that I will." Hughes said with conviction before turning to his two Agents. "Diana, Jones, I can not order you to stay with me on this, I can't even blame you if you feel you have to report me as it is."

Diana and Jones exchanged a brief glance that to Mozzie looked more like one of surprise that Hughes would think for a second that they were going to back out rather than them looking to one another as to what they should do next.

"We're all in, Sir." Diana confirmed.

"We don't leave men behind." Jones added.

"Then let's find this son of a bitch." Hughes growled. "Hell or high water."

"Hell or high water." The trio agreed in unison.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter was challenging to write, but I really enjoyed it! Thank you all for all your support with this story! And don't worry...it's not anywhere close to being over. ;)

 

Chapter Forty-seven

Lost in the endless darkness of the stone and cement tunnels of the Labyrinth Neal ran out of a sense of being chased rather than in hopes of reaching any kind of destination. With the true life nightmare that they had been living it was easy for Neal to believe in the vivid dream that he was playing out now. In his desperation to escape the unseen wolf that was nipping at his heels Neal took every turn he came to without the use of logic or any purpose beyond outpacing the feeling of dread that grew to an overwhelming sense of of impending death every time he tried to slow down.

Even in his dream state Neal realized that he couldn't run forever as he started to labor painfully for breath. A claustrophobia inducing tightness in his chest was keeping him from being able to draw in air beyond an ineffective shallow gasp. Still trying to run head long down the tunnel despite the shortness of breath Neal tripped and fell. Rather than striking the stone he went right through the floor which had turned into an inky pool. Thrashing in the blinding water Neal tore uselessly at the viscous liquid in a disorganized battle to reach the surface.

Having held his breath for as long as he was physically able Neal was forced to open up his lungs to the slurry he was fighting. Finding he could actually breath despite his underwater situation didn't help calm Neal's frantic panic. Disoriented he continued to lashed out against the threat of suffocation in the gravity free void that he'd fallen into. Kicking violently he could suddenly hear alarmed shouting. Opening his eyes Neal found himself out of the water but with Jake inches from his face. With the line between reality and dream being blurred by a deadly fever Neal didn't even question how his situation had changed, the only thing he cared about was the fact that it hadn't significantly improved. He was still in danger, the threat had simply changed forms.

With the memory of Jake trying to drown him fresh in his mind Neal bared his teeth and snarled incoherently at his attacker. Still unable to draw a deep breath Neal panted heavily as his heart raced dangerously out of control. Neal tried to bring his hands up to wrap them around Jake's throat but a powerful force was keeping him from his prey. He could move his forearms, but something was stopping him from getting any range with his shoulders which were being force out away from his body, giving him no leverage. Neal wasn't in the state of mind to figure out that the reason he couldn't get to Jake was that Peter had snaked his arms up under his armpits and crossed his arms over Neal's chest so that he could pin him in place. Neal was still able to kick but Jake was so close to his face because he was sitting on his hips to stop him from bucking.

Wild with panic from a series of nightmares and fever induced delirium Neal wasn't even certain that he had actually managed to wake up. Being held down by Jake was totally believable, what defied his sense of reality was why Peter would be helping him. Not even considering that they might be trying to help him in some way Neal fought harder to free himself. Unable to scream Neal was terrified that he was literally nearing the point where he would be fighting with his last breath. His breathing was getting exponentially worse and now he couldn't even exhale more than a small puff, let alone take in fresh air. With the spent air quickly turning rancid in his burning lungs Neal was close to complete respiratory failure.

Several angry voices all seemed to be snarling at one another including one that Neal couldn't identify. In the mists of the confusion and panic Neal could hear Peter's voice but he couldn't understand the words. Peter had been barking at someone before, but now he had lowered his voice and was repeating something over and over to Neal directly. Feeling like his galloping heart was about to fail him Neal poured all of his concentration into listening to Peter and trying to understand.

"Please, Neal," Peter begged desperately "you have to hold still, please, don't move. Trust me, relax it will only hurt for a second. You *have* to hold still."

With the large amount of adrenaline that the situation had dumped into Neal's blood in a last ditch effort to keep him alive holding still was the last thing he thought he was capable of. Every instinct was screaming at him to fight or to at least escape. Trusting Peter's plea Neal swallowed hard and took as deep a breath as he could manage. Neal couldn't relax his tense muscles but he did manage to freeze in place as asked. Whoever it was that wanted Neal to hold still wasted no time in acting as there was a sudden lancing pain that was centered over his lower right ribs and radiated out across his entire midsection.

Neal took a deep breath to scream in protest and pain only to be distracted by the fact that he could take a deep breath. The weight that had been bearing down on his chest had suddenly lifted. Whatever they had done to him had been painful but it had helped his overall condition. No longer needing Neal to hold so still Peter relaxed his grip from around his chest. Jake got off his hips as well adding to comfort. Closing his eyes Neal rested against Peter and focused on drawing fresh air into his lung. The heavy throbbing in his side was a small price to pay for being able to breath again.

"Thank you for trusting me." Peter whispered in weary relief. "The worst is over, just rest."

Neal wasn't certain how the worse could possibly be over, but he had no choice about getting more rest as he passed out. This time Neal fell into a black dreamless sleep that wasn't plagued by nightmares. However when he started to surface back into consciousness an unknown time later he was greeted with a suffocating sourceless heat. Neal tried to sit up to escape the heat, but he couldn't coordinate with his treasonous body, he couldn't even seem to open his eyes. Stuck in the world between sleep and awake Neal tried to call out for help, only to be startled by a reedy moan that he didn't recognize as his own voice.

"Easy, Neal." Peter said softly as he brushed his fingers through Neal's hair.

"Is he awake?" Jake asked.

"No, I don't think so." Peter replied sadly. "Neal, can you hear me?"

 _'I can hear you.'_ Neal tried to reply but failed to speak.

"His fever is spiking again." Peter said after pressing what felt like an icy cold hand against Neal's cheek.

"Doc said it might take a week before we saw any improvement, it's only be a few days."

"Don't call that drugged up med school drop out a 'doctor'." Peter growled darkly. "No one serious about medicine would leave a patient down here to die like this."

 _'I'm not dying.'_ Neal insisted silently. _'Please, don't give up on me…'_

"You didn't think York was going to send someone who wasn't under this thumb when you made that deal, did you?" Jake asked incredulously.

"No." Peter sighed in frustration.

 _'Deal?'_ Neal thought in distress. _'Peter, what did you do? Peter…Peter don't do something you can't live with just to save me…please…'_

Fighting harder to join the conversation Neal flailed and arched back in a desperate attempt to at least let them know he was listening, but he doubted that any of his actions looked purposeful as he battled with himself. Assuming Neal was about to have a seizure Peter cradled the back of Neal's head in his hand to keep him from injuring himself. Neal finally opened his eyes but he didn't have the power to focus them as he stared up at a blurry gray ceiling. Jake had rushed off into the bathroom to get a cold wet cloth thinking that it might help. Returning with the dripping cloth Jake knelt down and carefully pressed it against Neal's heated forehead. Despite Jake's intentions instead of calming Neal the water dripping into his eyes threw him into a panic as memories of his near drowning at Jake's hand flooded back to him.

A sharp rise in Neal's heart rate seemingly jolted him awake. Sitting up in his own bed back in his apartment Neal was momentarily aware that he must have fallen into a dream again. However the second he swung his legs over the edge of the bed he became lost in the illusion. The apartment was unnaturally dark, not the way that night fall made things dark but more the muted gray dark of a coming storm. Getting to his feet Neal stepped across his apartment with a tight knot twisting in his stomach. Afraid to be alone Neal went searching for Peter.

In the choppy logic that only made sense in a dream Neal wandered through seemingly endless well decorated rooms in his apartment that didn't exist in the real world. Each one held various art and treasures he'd stolen over the years. He even found one room that mimicked the storage locker full of the submarine treasure perfectly. Continuing on his path he eventually ended up on the patio. Neal's heart raced as the clear New York sky had been replaced by a dripping stained concrete that hung a few feet above the tallest skyscraper. Peter was sitting at the small patio table happily enjoying a cup of espresso completely unfazed by the close ceiling that stretched out over the city as far as the eye could see.

"Morning, Neal." Peter greeted with a friendly smile. "Sleep well?"

"Peter, what happened to the sky?"

"The what?" Peter asked confused.

"The sky." Neal pointed up at the slab.

"It's always looked like that." Jake's voice suddenly joined the dream.

"Jake…"

Neal turned around and found Jake was standing directly behind him. Neal tried to back away but Jake followed his every step until he had Neal backed up against the wall that surrounded the patio. Peter didn't seem to mind how Jake was invading Neal's personal space and kept drinking his coffee. Neal put his hands on Jake's chest and tried to push him away but found himself to be kittenishly weak. Jake laughed at Neal's feeble attempt and pressed his body against Neal's as he wrapped his arms around his waist. Neal struggled to get away, even if that meant going over the edge of the patio, but Jake had a firm hold on him.

"Jake, get off me!" Neal demanded.

"It's okay, I don't want hurt you."

"I don't care, I don't like this."

"It's fine." Jake insisted as he reached up and ran his fingers through Neal's hair.

"No!" Neal barked as he tried to pull away. "Peter, help me…please, don't let him touch me."

Sighing heavily Peter made a labored show of putting down his coffee and getting to his feet as if Neal's request irritated him. When Peter stepped up to Jake Neal expected him to just pulled Jake off of him, but Peter lashed out and effortlessly snapped Jake's neck instead. Without even a cry of pain Jake collapsed. Looking down in horror it wasn't just Jake but also Sawyer, and Adler that now lay in a lifeless heap of corpses at his feet.

"Do I have to do *everything* for you?" Peter demanded.

"I…I'm sorry, Peter." Neal stuttered. "I...I can't kill."

"That's funny, because it's that attitude is going to *get* me killed."

With a guilty weight on his chest Neal sat bolt upright with a sharp gasp. Looking around the bare walls of their underground cell was almost a relief when compared to the bitter anger in Peter's voice in the nightmare. With a cold sweat rolling off his skin Neal jerked violently when he finally noticed Jake sitting next to him.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Jake said, nearly echoing his dream counterpart.

Unsure of what to trust Neal just stared warily at Jake. Jake reached out to put his hand on Neal's shoulder but stopped himself when Neal's expression changed to one that made it clear he didn't want to be touched.

"Sorry." Jake apologies. "Are you really with us this time?"

"I don't know." Neal answered truthfully.

"You've been in and out of it for a while now, but you look better. How do you feel?"

"Nauseous."

"Understandable."

"Where's Peter?" Neal demanded.

"Behind you."

Neal turned so that he could look behind himself and found Peter sleeping on his back up against the wall. There was a new deep purple butterfly shaped bruise that sat across the bridge of his nose and spread its wings out under his eyes. Locked in REM sleep Peter's eyes darted around under the their lids as his chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Peter twitched in a nightmare of his own as he whimpered quietly. Neal put his hand on Peter's chest and almost instantly calmed him.

"What happened to him?" Neal asked concerned.

"He lost a fight." Jake answered dismissively. "He's going to be so glad to see you awake and lucid. It's been a long few days for him."

"I should let him sleep." Neal said even though he wanted nothing more than to wake him.

"No, go ahead and wake him up." Jake offered. "He'd want you to, and afterwards he'll sleep better knowing you're okay."

Neal wasn't entirely sure that he was okay, he felt like it was taking all of his effort just to sit up. However he did want to talk with Peter if for no other reason to make sure he wasn't angry with him for not being capable of bringing himself to murder. Neal knew it was stupid to attribute Peter's actions in a dream to real life, but right now he just wanted a comforting word to assure himself they were still friends.

"Hang on, before you wake him I need to move." Jake said as he got to his feet.

"What? Why?"

"Lately Peter wakes up a little delirious, and if I'm too close to you when that happens he attacks me." Jake explained. "He tends to snap out of it quickly, but he's still gotten in a few jabs. So now I try to make sure I'm out of range."

Neal couldn't help but wonder exactly what had gone on between Peter and Jake while he was out. A little worried about how Peter was going to react to being woken out of a dream Neal just called his name rather than jarring him awake with physical contact. For as deeply as Peter had been sleeping he snapped his eyes open at the sound of his name. Looking disoriented Peter's whole body tensed up, ready for a fight. Neal was ready to move if Peter took a swing at him, and at first it looked like there was a real danger of that. However once Peter focused on Neal he smiled brightly as he sat up and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Neal?" Peter asked as though he didn't believe what he was seeing.

"Peter." Neal greeted warmly.

Peter's already bright smile widened as he pulled Neal into a relieved embrace. Feeling more grounded in reality Neal closed his eyes and returned the warm affection as he enjoyed a moment of peace. It wasn't until Peter released him that Neal was reminded about the injury to his side by a sharp stab of pain that hissed across his teeth.

"I'm sorry." Peter apologized.

"It's okay…what happened?" Neal asked looking down at the quarter inch puncture wound between his ribs that had started to heal.

"You had a numbothorac." Jake answered.

"A what?"

"Pneumothorax." Peter corrected. "A pocket of air between your lung and chest wall was threatening to collapse your lung."

"We had to jab you with a needle that could have taken down a horse to get the air out."

Neal furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he looked at the wound. "Do we still have the needle?"

"I think it's in the trash in the bathroom." Jake nodded.

"Can you get it for me?"

"I don't think you want to see it." Peter interjected.

"Peter's right." Jake said with a winch. "I nearly passed out just looking at it."

"Please get it for me." Neal insisted.

"Alright." Jake shrugged as he got up.

"Neal?" Peter questioned.

"Just trust me."

Peter nodded and didn't question Neal's motives further. Neal didn't want to tell the two men what he was thinking in case it wasn't going to work. Feeling fatigued already Neal leaned his back against the cement wall flinching at how cold it felt. Mistaking Neal's reaction for one of pain Peter's expression flashed to one of concern. Neal smiled to let him know he was okay and Peter relaxed slightly. Neal was about to make a comment about Peter's hyper vigilance to let him know that although he appreciated it it wasn't necessary, however decided against it. Peter needed his role of protector to stay sane and asking him to ease back on that role would only do him harm.

Jake returned holding a thick gauge needle that did make Neal a little queasy to look at. Jake offered Neal the sinister looking steel that was stained with dried blood. Taking the needle Neal inspected it, it was about three inches long and when he tried to bend it he found it to be surprisingly sturdy. Licking his thumb and index finger he carefully cleaned the blood off. It wasn't easy to bend, but pressing it into the stone floor he was able to angle the tip. Once he was done he held it up to show the other two like it was a profound work of art he had just created.

"Will that work?" Peter asked hopefully.

"It's perfect." Neal replied confidently.

"Uh, Neal," Jake said doubtfully "I hate to break it to you, but I was just kidding about being able to take down a horse with that. That's a terrible weapon."

"It's not a weapon…it's half of a lock pick set."


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I'm going to try to keep up with updates over the holiday season...but you know how it is. Hugs! Thank you all for all your support though this story! it keeps me writing!

Chapter Forty-seven

"Elizabeth, I need to thank you again." Asha gushed happily. "This is by far the most spectacular event we've ever had. How did you even find this space on such short notice?"

"We hold a lot of wedding receptions here, and the owner owed me a favor."

"Thank you so much for using it on us." Asha smiled warmly. "Seriously, you're a life saver. I've been working on this fundraiser for months and I honestly didn't know what to do when Asher Hall called to cancel on me! Not to mention all the other finishing touches that I would have never thought of."

"Did you ever find out why they couldn't host you tonight?

"They gave me the oldest story in the book about a mix up in dates and being double booked." Asha said rolling her eyes.

"You don't believe them?"

"Not really. Being a charity event they were giving us the space at a deep discount and I'm sure someone with money came along and wanted tonight. I can't really blame them, they are running a business after all."

"I can't imagine them doing that."

"Have you worked with them before?"

"A few times. Their space is a little larger and less intimate than what my clients usually are looking for."

"This place does have a much more romantic feel." Asha smiled as she looked around the warmly lit room filled with socialites. "Anyway, it doesn't matter why they backed out, I'm just glad you were here to save me."

"My pleasure."

"And thank you for coming."

"It's good for me to be out of the house." Elizabeth admitted. "Actually this whole week helping you has been a good distraction for me."

"I couldn't have done it without you. It really is perfect, you're really good at this."

"I should start a business." Elizabeth teased.

"You should." Asha mocked in return. "I'd hire you."

"Good to know."

"Alright, now that everything is in full swing and under control I'm going to go get us something to drink."

"Oh, no thank…"

"Elizabeth," Asha interrupted "the only answer I'm going to accept is 'red' or 'white'."

"Red."

"Excellent, I have a few people I have to say hello to and then I'll be back with some refreshments. In the meantime why don't you try a little mingling?"

"Asha…"

"And eventually you are going to have to come to one of our support meetings or I'm going to become personally offended."

"I know. I will."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." Asha said seriously as she walked off towards a group of businessmen and women.

Elizabeth watched as Asha infiltrated the group and seamlessly started a conversation about Light for the Lost in hopes of increasing donations. Watching her work Elizabeth could see that Asha had a true talent and passion for it. Although Elizabeth still didn't feel comfortable with the idea of going to the support group meetings she had benefited tremendously from her time with Asha. Helping organize the fundraiser after the original venue fell through had brought a measure of normalcy back to her life. It had also proven to her that she could still function at her profession. She had been giving serious consideration to selling her company worried that she wouldn't be able to arrange another wedding as long as Peter was gone, but now she saw that she could turn her talents on more events like this one.

"Mrs. Burke?"

Lost in thought Elizabeth jolted at the sound of her name. Turning around she took a hurried step back when she found Charles Walker standing behind her. She tried to hide the flash of apprehension that accompanied seeing the head of the charity, but the apologetic look in Walker's eyes told her that she had failed. Asha had tried to convince Elizabeth that her first impression of Walker had been tainted by all of the negative emotions of Peter's disappearance. Elizabeth had been starting to think that maybe she had been jumping at shadows, however upon meeting him again Elizabeth still had an instinctual distaste and fear of him. Attempting to be a gentleman Walker tried to reach out to take her hand but Elizabeth pulled away.

"I see I still don't have your forgiveness." York sighed. "I'm so sorry. Asha told me how much I upset you. Please understand that was never my intention. Now that I've had some time to think about it I can see how inappropriate it was. I do hope you reported me to your friends at the FBI to make sure I'm one of the good guys."

Not willing to tell Walker either way Elizabeth said nothing as an uncomfortable silence fell between them. She had talked to Hughes about him but as far as he could find there weren't any red flags. Elizabeth did feel a pang of guilt at the dejected look on Walker's face when she continued to regard him distrustfuly. Part of her knew she was judging him unfairly, but that didn't stop her heart from racing with anxiety when he was near.

"You don't have to answer that." York said putting his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm not going to salvage this am I? That's okay. Please just allow me to say I'm sorry and thank you for helping with tonight's event."

"You're welcome." Elizabeth replied out of politeness.

"I know how hard it is to…"

"Charles!" Asha's interrupted as she came up behind Elizabeth and stood at her side. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not invited to my own organization's fundraisers any more?" York asked in an injured tone.

"You told me you couldn't make it tonight."

"I do have to leave, I just wanted to make a quick apperance and apologize to Mrs. Burke in person."

"That really wasn't necessary." Elizabeth said.

"I feel that it was. If there is anything I can do for you please don't hesitate to ask. Also make sure you send me an invoice for all the work you've done for us over the past week."

"What? No, this wasn't…"

"I insist." Walker interrupted before turning to Asha. "Asha, my Dear, make sure it happens."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Asha asked.

"I really do. I swear I feel like a rat trapped in a maze with all the running around I do." York chuckled.

"Good night, Charles." Asha said firmly.

"Yes, of course, I'm going, I'm going." York nodded. "Again, my apologies about my approach, Mrs. Burke, but I do feel it all worked out in the end. We are lucky to have you."

Still not willing to verbalize her forgiveness Elizabeth just offered York a tight lipped smile. She had been around Neal's genuine charm enough to spot when someone was trying too hard. York noted her continued coldness toward him and a she could swear a smirk touched the corner of his lips as if he either admired her stubbornness or perhaps was enjoying the game of trying to get back in her good graces. Either way her second encounter with the man had not improved her opinion of him. Admitting defeat for the night York gave her a shallow bow before retreating.

"I'm so sorry about that, Elizabeth, I didn't think he would be here tonight."

"It's okay."

"Clearly it isn't, I can see how upset you are. You looked about as happy as a wet cat talking to him."

"I'm sorry, I just get this…Peter would call it a gut feeling."

"I can understand, but Charles really does mean well even if he comes off as a little arrogant. He has done so much good with Light for the Lost. Just look around at all these people here tonight to support us."

"All I can see are the same rich, corrupt, entitled men that Peter used to arrest on a near daily basis." Elizabeth said bitterly as her mood darkened further.

"Then let's get out of here." Asha suggested.

"What? No, I'm okay."

"You're really not. This shindig can run without me, it was just my job to get it off the ground. The money guys are working the room, they don't need me. I thought being here would be good for you, but I can see it's too much too soon."

"I am feeling a little over whelmed here, but at the same time I don't really want to go home. To be honest I don't know what I want right now."

"That's perfectly normal." Asha said with sympathy. "What you really want is to feel better, but since your pain is inside you take it everywhere you go so no place feels right anymore."

Elizabeth just nodded, not trusting her voice as she feared she might be on the verge of tears all of a sudden. She had been doing better with her mood swings over the past few days but now that she was feeling a little stressed it was all flooding back. Asha was quick to pick up on the change and gently guided Elizabeth towards the exit.

"Come on, let's go. My office isn't far from here, it's a good neutral location and private."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth felt a little guilty having to be ushered away from the event that she and Asha had worked so hard together on. Knowing if she stayed she would only get worse she accepted Asha's invitation to leave. For as much as Elizabeth still distrusted Walker she had grown to depend on Asha's company. Asha stayed silently supportive on the short journey back to her office. She had a set of plush leather chairs with a small coffee table in between them in the corner of her crowded and messy office. Insisting Elizabeth sit down Asha got two bottles of water out a small fridge and offered one to Elizabeth before sitting down.

"We really do need to do something about the state of your office, Asha."

"Hey, I know where everything is…for the most part. The important things at any rate." Asha smiled. "However if you're offering to help I'm more than willing to take it on as our next project."

"I have a feeling that I'm your project at the moment."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, I need the help."

"You'll get there, Elizabeth." Asha said confidently. "You're a strong woman. I knew that from the first moment we met."

"I haven't felt very strong lately."

"And that's okay too. Even steel has a breaking point."

Elizabeth smiled as tears finally slipped down her cheeks. Demonstrating that she really did know where the important things were Asha reached down and pulled a box of tissues off a short stack of papers that were sitting on the floor. Dabbing away the tears Elizabeth sat in silence. At the start of the night she had felt almost normal and it was making the realization that everything was still wrong all the much harder to take. Feeling Peter's absence more acutely again Elizabeth fought against a true break down. Asha leaned forward and placed her hand gently on Elizabeth's knee.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Elizabeth. Recovery isn't a down hill slide," Asha said quietly "it's an uphill battle with occasional plateaus that make the climb seems all the more arduous."

"How do you always seem to know what I'm thinking?"

"Because I've been there."


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a spare moment to write! :) Hugs!

Chapter Fifty

 

Leaning his weight against the sink with his head bowed Neal watched the blood dripping off his cheek mix with the running water and swirl down the drain. Swallowing hard against the sting of bile in the back of his throat he fought to keep from retching as his anxiety escalated. It wasn’t the blood that was turning his stomach, he had long since gotten used to the crimson sight. It was the sound of the running water, both in the sink and the near by shower, that was chilling his blood and racing his heart. He had turned the shower on with ever intention of stepping under the spray but he’d yet to even try.

Having spent the last ten minutes just staring at the stained water escape down the sink Neal was no closer to even finding the courage to splash it on his face. Memories of Jake’s violent aquatic assault mixed with the nightmares he’d been having had created a true phobia of water that was making it difficult to even stay hydrated let alone clean. Needing to wash away the aftermath of his last fight Neal forced his trembling hands under the faucet. Welding his eyes shut he washed his face as quickly as his could. 

Panting heavily from stress after brief encounter with the sink Neal pulled his wet hands thought his hair to dry them. Bringing his hands down he looked in dismay at the blood that stained his hands once again. Hesitantly looking up in the mirror Neal’s dark hair hide the color of the blood that was congealing in it, but the way it was separating into greasy locks made him look like a cat that hadn’t been taking care of itself. Closing his eyes Neal sighed heavily.

Neal had hoped that he could desensitize himself to his new fear by running the shower, but the longer he stood near the cascading liquid the worse it was getting. Stepping over to it he put his hand into the stream and instantly felt his throat closing in. Even without being under the water he felt like he was drowning as panic made it difficult to breath. Deciding that a true shower could wait another day Neal retrieved one of the towels and after getting the edge of it wet he did his best to clean his skin. 

Turning off the water helped alleviate his symptoms, but it was still a fear that he was going to have to eventual face. Feeling like he was being childish and weak for his new disability he hadn’t talked to Peter about it. Logically he knew he wasn’t going to drown under the spray of a shower, but psychologically he couldn’t keep himself from going into full fledged panic at even sound of the water striking the concrete floor. 

Giving up for right now Neal returned to the front room. Sitting in the corner Peter was somewhat peacefully allowing Jake to tend to a fresh wound above his left eye that had started to bleed again. Peter was holding still while Jake applied a few steri-strips to hold the gash closed but he batted Jake’s hand away when Jake tried to examine the quickly darkening bruise under his eye that was likely indicative of a broken zygomatic arch. Peter had done well in his fight right up until the last few seconds when his opponent suddenly got in several shots that had left Peter nearly unconscious. 

Jake looked up at Neal and furrowed his brow at his still disheveled appearance. Peter picked up on Jake’s expression instantly and turned his attention to Neal as well. Suddenly finding himself under the pair’s scrutiny Neal flashed them a bright smile to try and convince them everything was okay. Clearly not falling for it Peter turned back to Jake and once he had his attention he flicked his eyes towards the door. It took Jake a second but he got the message. 

“I should check the rest of the Labyrinth.” Jake announced as he got to his feet. “The boys tend to be rowdy after a fight night. Although I’ve convinced everyone I killed Sawyer and his gang so keeping order is a little easier at the moment, but I should still make an appearance.” 

“Stay safe.” Peter said sincerely. 

“I’ve made it this long.” Jake replied as he opened the door.

For the first time since he laid eyes on Jake Neal wished he wouldn’t leave. He wasn’t ready to deal with Peter’s concern. However Neal had some suspicious of his own about Peter keeping secrets and now was as good a time as any to bring them up. Acting casual Neal took Jake’s place and sat down in front of Peter with a well practiced innocent smile. It didn’t even occur to him that it had been so long since he’d genuinely smiled for any reason that painting one on now just made him look more guilty. 

“Neal..”

“When did you and Jake start nonverbally communicating?” Neal teased with a raised eye brow. 

“We managed to come to an understanding while you were sick.” Peter shrugged but instantly regretted it as he winced in pain. “Neal…”

“Are you okay?” Neal asked with true concerned and not just looking for a distraction. “Malik got you pretty hard in the ribs right there near the end, did he break them?”

“No.” Peter lied unconvincingly. “Neal, we need to talk…”

“Yes we do,” Neal interrupted again before Peter could introduce a topic “because if I didn’t know any better I’d say you threw that fight.” 

“I just dropped my guard for a second.” Peter said dismissively. 

“Exactly.” Neal said accusingly. 

“Neal…”

“Peter, did you make some sort of deal with York?”

“I did.” Peter admitted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wouldn’t change anything.”

“It would have at least given me a chance to say thank you.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

“Of course I would, but that’s not the point.”

“No, the point is that you’re distracting me from the elephant in the room.” Peter said firmly. 

“What are you talking about?” Neal asked feigning ignorance.

“Remember back when this all started when I told you that survival was a game of inches? That it was the little things that were going to keep us alive? We are both on the knife’s edge health wise right now.”

“Peter…”

“Neal, you have to take a shower.” 

“I bet that’s something you never thought you’d say to me.” Neal chuckled as he tried to think of a way out of this conversation. 

“Neal, please, this is serious.”

“I’m fine.” Neal lied. “I’ve been keeping clean.”

“No you haven’t.” Peter said point blank. “I can smell the blood rotting in your hair.”

Neal took a breath to retort but doing so only drew the scent that Peter was complaining about into his senses. He had gotten so used to the general damp and decay of the Labyrinth that it had been easy to convince himself that it wasn’t any worse than their new normal. However it was worse, much worse, and it was only a matter of time before it lead to an infection. If he got sick again Peter would end up having to come up with some other way to pay York for medical attention. 

“I…I can’t.” Neal sighed heavily. “I know it sounds stupid, but after what happened I am far more terrified of the water than I am of the ring.”

“It’s not stupid, Neal, you have PTSD.” Peter said sympathetically. “I was giving you some time to work it out on your own, but I’m starting to worry that isn’t going to happen.”

“It’s not.” Neal admitted quietly. 

“Then let me help you.” Peter said. 

“Right now?” Neal cringed. 

“Right now.” Peter affirmed as he leaned forward to get to his feet before rocking back with his breath hissing over his teeth in pain. “First you have to help me up.”

“Broken rib?” Neal asked sympathetically as he got to his feet. 

“At least one.” Peter confirmed. 

“I’m sorry, Peter.” Neal apologized as he helped him to his feet.

“It’s not your fault.” 

“You could have defended yourself better if you weren’t throwing a fight for me.”

“I made the deal for both of us Neal. I was serious when I first said that wouldn’t last long down here alone.”

“Si vales, valeo.” Neal smiled. 

“Exactly. Come on, let’s put that into action.”

Neal nodded even though it knotted his stomach to even agree to step back into the bathroom. Peter walked in and turned on the shower, not caring that the spray was soaking his clothes. Neal tried to follow him but found himself frozen at the doorway. Peter gave him a minute before holding his hands out for Neal to step forward and take. Already panting for breath Neal wasn’t sure he could go through with this even with Peter’s help. He ground his teeth in frustration at his inability to perform this simple task. 

“It’s okay, Neal, one step at a time. Just come closer.”

“I feel ridiculous, no, worse than that, I’m *angry* that that this frightens me.” Neal growled as he walked over and took Peter’s hands in his own as though they were about to start a traditional Victorian era dance. 

“You can’t control an emotional response, but you don’t have to let it control you either.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie.” Neal chuckled. 

“It’s something the FBI shrink once told me.”

“Did it help?”

“Not really, but I thought it was worth a shot with you.”

“What were you having an emotional response to?” Neal asked out of sheer curiosity as to what could have rattled Peter to the point of the doctor giving him that advice. It hadn’t been over Adler, he had listened to all of those sessions. 

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Peter answered evasively as he took a step back in hopes that Neal would get close enough to the spraying water to at least get splashed. 

“Was it something about me?” Neal asked more concerned. 

“No.” Peter replied visibly uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?”

“It was Elizabeth, after Keller took her I had some trouble with anxiety.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea. I…”

“Water under the bridge.” Peter interrupted. “Speaking of water…”

“Right.” Neal nodded.

Neal refocused himself not having even realized how violently he had started shaking while he was talking to Peter. Peter was letting the water strike his own back to shield Neal from the spray but now he stated to turn, guiding Neal to exchange places with him. With his heart already pounding in his chest Neal started to feel dizzy as he followed Peter’s lead and moved towards the spray. Neal felt that he was doing okay until the water slammed against his shoulder blade. A vivid memory of falling back first into the tub as Jake pushed him down assaulted his senses in a powerful flash back. Instantly hyperventilating Neal closed his eyes and gripped down on Peter’s hands. He tried to ask Peter to pull him out of the water but his voice had been stolen by panic. 

“Neal, breath normally, you’re going to pa…”

Neal didn’t hear the rest of Peter’s warning as his blood pressure spiked dangerously high and he passed out. Peter lashed out and managed to get his arms around Neal’s emaciated waist and pulled him closer to keep him from collapsing. Keeping one arm around Neal Peter reached up and supported the back of Neal’s head with his other hand. Tilting Neal back under the spray Peter did his best to wash the thick blood out of his hair. Peter wasn’t surprised by Neal’s violent reaction, he had even expected it. Even while Neal had been delirious with fever he had responded violently to getting wet. Coping with the complexities of a trauma induced phobia was well beyond any of Peter’s training. He hadn’t even been able to get over his own fears of leaving Elizabeth unguarded without the help of a few months of medication, and even then the fear returned and still woke him bolt upright now and then.

“I’m sorry, Neal, I don’t think I know how to be strong enough to get you past this.”


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-one

After Peter had wordlessly asked him to leave Jake contemplated staying outside the door to eavesdrop. However he knew what their conversation was going to be about so there was no point getting caught listening in. It didn't take a psychiatrist to pick up on Neal's new hydrophobia, he literally reeked of it. With a guilty knot in his stomach for having caused the issue Jake wandered aimlessly through the dank tunnels. He had developed his own recurrent nightmare from the events in the tub. In his dreams he kept Neal down until he drown and then just as Neal had predicted when he went to Peter seeking death he murdered him as well. The rest of the nightmare consisted of him frantically searching the tunnels for another living soul but finding himself completely alone.

Jake shook his head sadly at the unimaginative nightmare, it had been years since his dreams had been anything more than a slight variation of his life. Unable to find escape even his sleep he was also plagued by the fact that he always dreamed in black and white. Glancing up at the gray concrete ceiling Jake's heart sank further. As excited as Neal had been about the bent needle as a lock pick they had yet to find anything that could serve as the second half. Even if the door opened Jake doubted that it lead anywhere. York would not be so careless as to leave an exit behind a simple locked door. Falling deeper into depression the further he walked Jake started to feel some resentment towards Peter and Neal.

"I had accepted that nothing would ever change until you two came along." Jake growled bitterly to himself. "You think offering me hope of better was helping me? All you've done is given me something to lose…"

Grinding his teeth together in anger Jake's ear suddenly picked up the distant sound of voices. Hearing the distinct sound of group laughter grated on Jake's already fraying nerves. The evening's fights had been over for less than an hour and the men were already drunk. Far from being a punishment many of the men who ended up down here paying off debuts enjoyed the bloodsport and the celebrations afterward. Angered by their revelry and burning with jealousy that they got to leave once their debut was paid Jake stalked down the hall with every intention of starting a fight.

The dozen or so men gathered in the commons room were all familiar faces, men that had ended up in the Labyrinth enough times to be comfortable with it. Everyone had been quieter and more reserved just after Sawyer and his gang's violent end, but they appeared to have moved on. It did make Jake feel better when the party instantly calmed down the moment he stepped in the doorway. Even intoxicated most of the men still had the sense to perceive Jake as a threat. If they ever found the courage to gang up on him he would be hopelessly over powered, but it was every man for himself down here and not even Sawyer had ever wanted to risk openly starting a fight. With the added threat that York would leave them all down here to starve if they hurt his 'prize employee' Jake enjoyed a special kind of power over them. However, for whatever reason tonight one of the regulars was feeling bold.

"Hey, Jake!" A man greeted in drunken cheerfulness. "I got a question for ya!"

"Trevor, no, shut up!" Trevor's friend, Daniel, hissed.

"Jake," Trevor continued "what year is it?"

"What?" Jake growled.

"Trevor, shut the fuck up!" Daniel tried again to quiet his friend. "You are goi…"

"What year is it? I got a little bet going with the boys." Trevor chuckled. "You're always down here, I don't think you get out much. In fact I think…"

Like a bull charging a red cape Jake rushed Trevor with blinding speed and a frightening amount of power. Daniel and the others scattered like rats in Jake's path. Dangerously inebriated Trevor's reaction time was far too slow as he just stared in shock at Jake baring down on him. Jake didn't even bother with his night stick as he jumped on Trevor and drove him into the floor. Releasing all his pent up rage and frustration on Trevor it was only a matter of seconds before the man was bloodied and unconscious. With his adrenaline running high Jake got off his gasping prey and glared at the small crowd that was watching in a mix of horror and morbid curiosity. They were all used to violence and blood but there was an intensity to Jake that automatically won their fear and respect.

"No one bets on me unless I decide to step into the ring. Understood?"

Not waiting for a reply Jake turned and stalked off. He knew better than to start too many fights at one time and risk uniting the group against him. A brief show of power was always best and had worked for him for years. Behind him he could hear the men regrouping and teasing the unconscious Trevor for his stupidity. Feeling a little better Jake turned the corner and froze when he found himself face to face with one of York's guards.

"I really am impressed that you manage to fool anyone into thinking you're anything other than branded scum." Harris said with a cruel smile. "If they ever heard the way you whimper and beg at York's feet they'd piss themselves laughing."

"If you weren't under York's protection I'd beat you just as senseless as Trevor."

"Right back at cha." Harris sneered. "Speaking of York, he'd like to see you…alone."

Jake failed to hide the brief look of panic that fell over his face. It had been a long time since York had asked to see him alone. Jake wished he could say that he couldn't remember the last time it had happened, but he recalled in vivid detail every time he'd ever been left alone with York.

"There's that scared little girl." Harris chuckled. "You know where to find him. Enjoy your 'meeting'."

Finding himself rooted to the floor Jake couldn't think straight enough to come up with an insult to throw back at Harris. Harris chuckled again and left, trusting Jake wouldn't make York wait long. Thrown into a panic Jake seriously considered going back to Peter and Neal and hiding, knowing that they would at least attempt to shield him from York. Jake even started making his way back to the pair before he came to his senses. Forcing York to hunt him down would only make matters worse for everyone.

Swallowing hard Jake fought to control his sudden shivering as he turned around and made his way towards where York would be waiting for him. Jake never questioned it when York stopped seeking him out for carnal encounters, he had just been grateful when he had lost interest in him. Coming to the room that he had dragged Neal to once to threaten him with the cruel humiliating fate Jake wanted to believe that this time he would kill York before submitting to him that way again. However despite the nightmare that his life had become Jake had never found the courage in the past to end it by lashing out at the man who kept him alive.

Despising his cowardice but knowing it kept him alive Jake knocked on the door before letting himself in. Stepping into the room with his heart pounding in his ears Jake kept his eyes down cast. Keyed up nearly to the point of passing out Jake was starting to think that this might actually be the moment that he truly snapped. With all his pain and rage welling up Jake couldn't imagine allowing York to come close without flying into a blind frenzy of violence.

"Relax, Jake, it's not what you think."

Jake jerked his eyes up and stared at York warily as his thoughts stumbled over one another. York was casually leaning back against the sturdy table. He had a gun resting comfortably in his hand but he wasn't pointing it Jake, he looked like he had it just in case Jake proved brave or crazy enough to be dangerous.

"I know a man's breaking point better than anyone. I know you are way too unstable to safely abuse in that particular fashion any more." York continued. "I've known it for years."

Unsure of what to think Jake didn't respond. On the one hand he was immensely relieved that York had read the situation correctly, but at the same time it was terrifying just how well York knew him. York was forever one step ahead of him. Jake couldn't explain it but he always felt that he was going up against an unstoppable force every time he was in York's presence. Having been beaten down by York for what was now most of his life Jake felt helpless as a kitten under the paw of a lion. Falling into a near automatic submission Jake waited to hear what York wanted of him now.

"I wanted to talk to you alone because I wanted to make a request and I don't want anyone seeing me ask you for a favor."

"A favor?" Jake asked surprised.

"I want Burke to kill someone."

"Wha…what?"

"I told him he would kill for me and I'm not about to let him die before he does. That last fall he took looked like a bone breaker, and cracked ribs easily lead to pneumonia down here. Burke's clock is ticking and I'm not interested in fixing him. Time to play a final game with him and then let him and his pet rat starve."

"But…I…I thought they were making you good money."

"They are." York shrugged. "But I didn't create the Labyrinth because I need money, I did it because I was bored and I enjoy the power. I get to be Caesar down here. So find me a fight worthy of your Emperor."

Jake's head was still spinning and this request was not helping. He had had the same thought about Peter's recent injury, but it had never occurred to him that York would just let him die if he fell ill. With the way York had gotten Neal medical attention it had left Jake with hope that he would continue to help the pair, even if that help came at a cost. Jake had no real faith that Peter and Neal could find a way out of the Labyrinth but he had started to enjoy the thought of having their company for a while.

"Well?"

"I don't think I can." Jake finally replied.

"Jake if you can't do your job any longer…"

"Anyone that Pe…Burke can beat he will do so without killing them," Jake explained "on the flip side anyone strong enough to threaten his life to the point where he feels he has to defend himself with lethal force will most likely just end up killing him."

Jake shifted his weight uncomfortably as York studied him thoughtfully while weighing the gun in his hand absent mindedly. With his back against the door Jake was starting to fear that York might actually shoot him. Jake had to admit that he was falling apart and it wasn't going to be long before he was useless. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if York sent him another branded to torment. He had completely lost his desire to torture another soul into fighting in the ring, and if he couldn't earn his keep he was going to be tossed out into the ring instead.

"I'm going to make a one time deal with you, Jake." York said carefully. "Find a way to make this work, and I will personally take you upstairs to see the sky."

"Wha…what?"

"Get Burke to kill and I will give you what you've always wanted. You know I keep my promises."

"I…if…it…" Jake stuttered as he started to shake again at the thought of York granting his obsession. "I…I can't. Maybe if Sawyer was still…no, even then…Peter…Burke isn't going to beat someone to death with his bare hands. He won't land that last strike, the second he knocks down an opponent he'll stop. It would have to be an accident or…"

"You disappoint me Jake." York sighed as he leaned forward to push himself away from the table he'd been leaning on. "I thought I could count on that devious mind of yours. I guess you'll never see blue again."

"No! Wait, wait, please!" Jake cried with his voice cracking in desperation. "Would…would Burke have to actually be in the ring?"

"The whole point is to entertain the crowd."

"Right, but I can still give you a show." Jake said quickly. "He won't kill to defend, but he will do it to protect."

"I'm listening."

"Put Neal in the ring with someone he has no chance against. Someone like…like Danisko, he…he's perfect, he enjoys his fights, he makes them last right to the bell, maybe beyond if riled. Get him down here. He'll toy with Caffrey but in the end he will not hesitate to kill."

"How does getting Caffrey killed help?"

"Give Burke his gun back with a single round…he won't let Caffrey die."


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter Fifty-two

"Thank you so much for helping me with this, Elizabeth."

"My pleasure."

"I've let my office get out of control, haven't I?"

"You really have." Elizabeth agreed.

Asha paused in her work of sorting through a set of older files and studied Elizabeth for a moment. In their time together Elizabeth had never been an overly chatty person, but tonight she was particularly quiet and solemn. Her lips had smiled during her last statement but the emotion hadn't spread to her eyes. Usually despite her circumstances her naturally joyful attitude shone through now and again, but tonight her light blue eyes had been permanently clouded with sorrow. The fact that Elizabeth had called her earlier and specifically asked if she could come over added to Asha's suspicion that something was wrong beyond the usual.

Not sure if she should broach the subject Asha turned her attention back to the task at hand. Trying to make friends Asha didn't want to add to Elizabeth's paranoia by asking too many questions. Besides Asha had to admit that some of that mistrust had worn off on her. The day after the fund raiser Walker had come to her asking about Elizabeth. He had been very casual about it and usually Asha wouldn't have thought twice about it, but knowing how guarded Elizabeth was made Asha less willing to talk to him about her. Showing what could be considered too much curiosity Walker had kept looking for different angles to get the conversation going. It had gotten particularly uncomfortable when he had started to inquire about how her friendship with Elizabeth was developing. It could have just been her imagination but Asha had thought she'd heard a trace of irritation in his voice when she had informed him that Elizabeth was still fairly distant.

Walker hadn't really pushed hard for any details or asked anything directly about Peter's case. In fact everything he had said was perfectly friendly and outwardly he seemed to just be looking for ways to help. However looking at his behavior through the tint of Elizabeth's distrust Asha could see how his inquiry could be considered suspicious. Walker often asked her personal questions about people who came to Light for the Lost, but he seemed more interested in Elizabeth than the others. Since Elizabeth hadn't told her anything about how the FBI investigation was going Asha didn't worry about accidentally telling him anything, but at the same time she didn't like this new uneasiness she had around him. There had always been an air of self-importance about him, but lately Asha was finding he had an undercurrent of menace that she hadn't noticed before.

Feeling more anxious than she had in a while Asha realized that she had been shuffling the same dozen file folders for nearly half an hour. Looking up over at Elizabeth she found that she was lost in a repetitive task as well. She had a set of books that she kept arranging and rearranging on the shelf. Picking up another book she just stared at it vacantly for a full minute before visibly snapping out of her trance and slowly trying to find a place for it. Unable to just watch Elizabeth being miserable Asha decided she had to risk trying to help her even if it ended poorly.

"Elizabeth…" Asha said gently to get her attention.

Doing a good job of painting on a brave face Elizabeth turned away from the books and looked at Asha attentively.

"I know you still don't fully trust me, and I understand. I really do." Asha said carefully. "But I get the feeling something's wrong, more wrong than usual. I don't want to pry, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable…but I also hate to see you in pain."

"Is it that obvious?" Elizabeth sighed.

"It is." Asha nodded. "You don't have to tell me, but is there someone you can talk to?"

"No, I mean, yes, but…"

"You don't want them worrying about you." Asha said knowingly.

"Something like that."

"You don't have to be a rock through all of this. You know that, right? Trust me when I say your friends feel helpless even when you appear to be doing well. Sometimes it can help you and them to seek out a shoulder to cry on, makes them feel useful. Particularly if something's changed recently."

"Nothing's changed…it's just…today..." Elizabeth's eyes brightened as she fidgeted with wedding ring.

"…it's yours and Peter's anniversary, isn't it?" Asha asked softly.

Elizabeth nodded sadly as a stray tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. Anniversaries are always difficult." Asha said empathetically. "We should be doing something better than rummaging though my office."

"No, this has been perfect. I like making order out of chaos."

"I've certainly provided chaos."

"You've provided me with so much more." Elizabeth said seriously. "I wish I could tell you that I fully trust your intentions because you have been nothing but kind and supportive. I hate not being able to believe in kindness, that's not who I usually am."

"Please don't stress about that right now." Asha said. "I wouldn't trust anyone in your place either so I honestly don't take any offense to it."

"Thank you."

Feeling that they had reached a deeper connection just by admitting to the fact that there was still some distrust between them Asha walked over to Elizabeth and offered her a hug. Elizabeth managed a genuine smile and accepted the moment of physical support. After even just the brief embrace Elizabeth's spirits were markedly improved. Asha suspected that Elizabeth was used to being a highly affectionate person and that with the sudden disappearance of her husband the sharp decline in physical contact had left her with an emptiness beyond the emotional desolation.

Asha was about to suggest that they give up on the office that was still a mess and seek out a drink when there was a timid knock at the door. Startled easily Elizabeth jerked back at the sound before she sighed in frustration. It broke Asha's heart to see how embarrassed and angry Elizabeth was with herself for the reaction to the innocent sound. Asha reached out and squeezed her shoulder to let her know it was okay and was rewarded by a grateful smile from Elizabeth. Asha flicked her eyes to the door and back in a silent question about if she should answer the door or not. Elizabeth brushed the back of her hand over her cheeks to dry them before she nodded.

"Come in." Asha called.

"Asha," an older woman greeted warmly as she stepped into the office "I wasn't sure you'd be here tonight…oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company."

"It's okay." Asha assured. "Elizabeth Burke, this is Judith Miller, Judith this is Elizabeth."

"Nice to meet you." Elizabeth greeted.

"You as well." Mrs Miller smiled sadly.

"Is everything okay, Judith?" Asha asked concerned.

"Honestly, I'm starting to give up hope." Mrs. Miller replied in a deeply guilty tone.

"That's a perfectly normal reaction at this point, it's been about four months, right?"

"Next week." She confirmed.

"Has the Skiptrace uncovered anything?"

"He found a few more gambling debuts, but that's not a surprise. Calvin had a real problem. I tried to help him, I just…" Mrs. Miller paused as her voice became more emotional. "The police still say there is no evidence of foul play, and it's not that I don't think my son wouldn't run away from his problems it's more that I know he didn't have the money to just flee the city."

"Don't lose faith yet."

"That's actually part of why I wanted to talk to you. The Skiptrace's contract is almost expired…"

"Say no more, I'll talk to the Board about getting another a grant for the Skiptrace. It's a good sign that there's at least some trail of Calvin."

"Thank you so much." Mrs. Miller said tearfully. "I could never afford this on my own. My son wasn't the best man in this world, but he was mine. I love and miss him. I just want to know what happened."

"I understand." Asha said warmly.

Mrs. Miller looked at Elizabeth and seeing that they shared a common pain she offered her a look of empathy before excusing herself. Asha felt that this might be the right moment to suggest to Elizabeth that she join one of the group sessions after sharing the brief connection. However turning back to Elizabeth she found that she had her brow furrowed in concerned thought.

"Elizabeth?" Asha asked. "Something wrong?"

"I'm just thinking about these Skiptracers you keep talking about."

"What about them?"

"Sounds like a profession that would breed con-artists." Elizabeth said bluntly. "Give people desperate for answers a little bit of hope, then ask for more money…like with Mrs. Miller."

"We work with a lot of different companies but Charles is very careful about which Skiptracers he's willing to do business with. He's flat out refused to work with several of them. I doubt any of them are defrauding the organization and Mrs. Miller hasn't paid anything out of pocket either, everything has come from the Light for the Lost Foundation."

"How do they get paid?"

"The organization submits grants to the Foundation Board and the funds come from the treasury which is funded by donations."

"I meant what form do the Skiptracers accept payment in." Elizabeth corrected.

"What do you mean?"

"Are they a cash based business?"

"I wouldn't think so, grants can sometimes be up to ten thousand dollars. I can't imagine they are paid in cash."

"But you don't know?"

"No. I don't deal with Skiptracers directly." Asha admitted. "I have my hands full with the support meetings and event planing. I don't really have anything to do with financial side other than fund raising."

"This Board, friends of Mr. Walker I assume?"

"He appointed four of them over the years, the other three are from before."

"Simple majority rules?"

"I don't know." Asha shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing." Elizabeth said shaking her head.

"It's clearly not 'nothing'. What are you thinking?"

"...I'm thinking a set up like this is exactly how you launder money."

"What? No." Asha shook her head. "No. For that to even being to work Charles would have to own more than half the Skiptracers in New York."

"Who's to say he doesn't?"


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty-three

Sitting on the heavy wool blanket with his back against the wall Neal looked down at Peter who was fitfully sleeping in his lap. The space between distant rumblings of the subway above told Neal that another night had fallen, but he'd lost track of how many times that had happened. If they were rescued this instant and told that they'd been missing a year he would believe it. Guessing it had been closer to two months Neal briefly wondered if anyone still hung on to hope that they were alive. Mozzie and Elizabeth would be the last to give up on them, but at some point they would need to let them go if for no other reason than to be able to move on with their own lives.

Peter's weak congested cough warned Neal that they were starting to running out of hope themselves. It had been a few days since Peter had tried unsuccessfully to help Neal with his hydrophobia. During that time Peter's health had spiraled down hill. His broken ribs had been preventing him from breathing deeply and it was taxing his already strained system leaving him vulnerable to pneumonia. Peter had been insisting he was fine, but it had reached a point where he couldn't even pretend to hide his weakness anymore. Neal didn't know what to do beyond trying to keep him comfortable. Jake hadn't been particularly helpful lately either, in fact he often only stayed with them for a few minutes at a time before disappearing for hours once more. Jake kept coming back and he looked like he wanted to tell them something, but he never did.

Jerking in his restless sleep Peter started audibly gasping as he started panting and whimpering in the grips of a nightmare. Reaching down Neal gently brushed Peter's hair off his forehead. Peter's skin was oddly dry and cold to the touch which confused Neal thinking that Peter should have a fever by now. Shivering violent Peter curled up a little tighter, seeking warmth. Carefully lifting Peter's head out of his lap Neal got up and readjusted the blanket they were on so that he could fold it over Peter. The blanket settled Peter down for the moment but he was still breathing fast and shallow.

Sitting next to him Neal pulled the blanket away just enough to expose the healed brand over his heart. Leaning over him Neal gently pressed his ear against Peter's chest. Peter wouldn't let him listen to his lungs when he was awake so Neal had to take advantage of when he was sleeping. Closing his eyes to help him concentrate Neal tried to determine how dire things were getting. Thankfully Neal could still hear a good deal of air managing to rush into Peter's chest, there was a disturbing wheeze and clicking to both his in and exhalation, but at least he wasn't drowning in his own lungs. Feeling his own throat closing up at the thought Neal jerked slightly when Peter suddenly reached up and carded his hand into Neal's hair. Neal took Peter's hand in his own as he sat up to keep it from falling. Peter let Neal keep his hand but looked up at him with an expression of mock disapproval.

"Sorry." Neal apologized without even trying to mean it.

"It's okay. I appreciate the concern."

"Should I even both asking how you're feeling?"

"No." Peter replied with a weak smile.

"Peter…"

Neal was cut off when Peter went into a violent coughing fit. Gripping down on Neal's hand Peter weld his eyes shut in agony at the wracking cough. Neal put his free hand down on Peter's chest and tried to will him to be calm. When he finally stopped Peter was left breathless and in an obvious haze of pain from his fractured ribs as he stared up at the ceiling. Feeling helpless Neal took his hand off Peter's chest ran his fingers through Peter's hair that was suddenly soaked in cold sweat. Neal couldn't keep the anxiety out of his expression and when Peter caught sight of it he suddenly lost some his own courage. It broke Neal's heart to see so much fear reflected in Peter's eyes and he cursed himself for letting Peter see his own fear. When you're strong, I am strong was the motto they had gotten them this far, but the system was starting to fall apart as death approached.

"Neal…" Peter panted "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Find Jake…bring him back here."

"Why?"

"I messed up." Peter admitted. "I never should have sent him away."

"You were just trying to help me."

"I was." Peter closed his eyes wearily and nodded. "But I alienated him. I need to apologize. I need to make it right."

"Peter…"

"I need to know that Jake will protect you." Peter whispered as he started to fade again.

"Peter, don't worry about that right now."

"Find him." Peter ordered as he snapped his eyes open and fought to sit up. "Or I will."

"Easy, easy. You're not going anywhere." Neal said as he put his hand on Peter's chest to guide him back down. "I'll find Jake, in fact I'm willing to bet I know where he is."

"Thank you."

Proving that he wouldn't have made it to the door, let alone all the way to finding Jake, Peter closed his eyes and passed out. Sighing heavily Neal pulled the blanket over him again. Looking around their dank prison Neal hated to leave Peter alone, however, having made a promise he got to his feet and head out into the tunnels. On his way to find Jake Neal had another thought that hastened his step. Angry that he hadn't thought of the solution he'd just come to sooner Neal hunted Jake down hoping that he wasn't blind drunk.

Coming to the room that Jake used to take him to for 'training' Neal's heart dropped a little when he found Jake sitting in the back corner with a liquor bottle in hand. Not yet to the point of being black out drunk, but getting close, Jake looked up at Neal and smiled brightly. Neal ground his teeth together as Jake lifted the three quarters empty bottle in his direction in an invitation to join him. Stalking over to Jake Neal glared down at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Neal demanded.

"Drinking." Jake answered simply. "How's Peter?"

"You know damn well how he is."

"Yeah…" Jake sighed sadly. "Broken ribs…that's not good."

"I need you to contact York for me."

"What?" Jake jolted as his eyes widened.

"I need to talk to him. Right now."

"There is nothing good that can come from a conversation like that." Jake replied sounding sober. "Neal…"

"Peter is sick, he needs medical attention or he is going to die soon. Also we have a fight coming up tomorrow night and he can't be allowed out into the ring."

"Don't worry, I promise Peter won't be in the ring tomorrow." Jake assured.

"Thank you for taking his fight, but he still needs medicine. I want to bargain with York."

"Neal, no." Jake said firmly. "Absolutely not. Does Peter know you're down here? You should go back to him. He needs you."

"Exactly, which is why I have to do this."

"Do you…do you understand what you're asking? You'd be safer dealing with the actual Devil."

"Clearly York keeps his promises."

"He does." Jake affirmed. "But the price is high. There is only one thing he's going to want from you. You know that, right?"

"I do."

Jake eyed Neal for a moment before shrugging. Putting the bottle down Jake fought to get to his feet. Neal offered him his hand and helped him up. Once standing Jake shook his head as if trying to clear the alcohol out of it. As soon as he was reasonably confident that he wasn't going to fall down Jake turned his attention to Neal.

"Alright, let's go."

"York is here now?" Neal asked surprised.

"No." Jake shook his head. "We're not going straight to York. We're going to go kill someone first."

"What?!"

"I beat a guy senseless the other day, he'll be a good one for you to cut your teeth on."

"Jake what are you talking about? How drunk are you?"

"Very." Jake confessed. "But if you want York to help Peter he's going to make you kill someone for it, so I think it best that you already have a notch in that belt of yours before we go to the trouble of asking him for any favors. Don't worry, I'll help you, but you need to be the one to deliver that final blow."

"Jake, this is crazy."

"Trust me, it's the only thing that York is going to want from you. I promise you that. You have nothing else to offer him, and at this point he doesn't really care if Peter dies so he's not going to be in a good bargaining mood."

"Ja..."

"So let's go bloody those hands of yours to prove you mean business."

Even though when Neal had requested to see York he knew this would be the cost he still balked when Jake put it into blunt words. Physically starting to shake at the thought of purposefully taking someone's life Neal reminded himself that Peter had already taken that step for him in the past. Pulling his shoulders back Neal looked at Jake and nodded.

"Fine."

"Really?" Jake asked skeptically.

"I'm not going to 'practice' kill anyone, but if that's what York's asks of me…I…I'll do it."

"That kind of hesitation is a weakness you can't show York. Are you sure about this?"

"Peter has killed for me, I'm willing to kill for him."

"That I don't doubt actually, but you are talking about two totally different acts, Neal." Jake said seriously. "When York has you murder it's not going to be anything like what Peter did for you. I'm willing to bet whoever Peter killed was a direct threat to your life. They probably had a gun aimed right at your heart, finger on the trigger, a split second from pulling it. Am I right?"

"…yes." Neal admitted.

"Even when Peter went to take out Sawyer he was a clear and immediate threat to you both. I have no doubt if someone was trying to kill Peter and your only choice was lethal force I fully believe you wouldn't hesitate. This won't be like that. You won't be defending Peter from anyone, you'll be murdering a stranger in cold blood. Or if he's feeling sadistic, and he often is, York will have you kill me."

"You?"

"My time is almost up, Neal, you and Peter have ruined me." Jake sighed heavily. "Don't get me wrong I'm endlessly grateful to be shown that I still have some humanity left, but it's just a matter of time before York decides that I'm completely useless because of it."

"Jake…"

"Do you think this is what Peter wants?" Jake asked suddenly. "Do you think he honestly wants to trade your innocents for a few more weeks of life in this torture pit? Do you think he will ever look at you the same if there's blood on your hands for him?"

"He can't blame me for saving his life."

"He won't blame you." Jake said confidently. "He'll blame himself."

Neal took a breath to retort but there was nothing he could say, Jake was right. Frustrated Neal dragged his hands through his hair with an angry growl. Jake sighed in sympathy before he bent down and picked the bottle up off the floor and offered it to Neal. Feeling the need for the alcohol's numbing effects Neal accepted it and took a deep pull. Jake took the bottle away from him before he could have any more and put his hand on Neal's shoulder.

"I will contact York for you if you insist, but if you really want to honor Peter you won't do this."

"I can't just do nothing…it's my fault, he never would have broken those ribs if he hadn't thrown that fight for York."

"Peter made the decision to barging knowing the risks, you had no control over that."

"Peter is dying because of me."

"No, Neal, he's dying for you."


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Wow...I can't believe it, we have finally circled back to the first chapter!! Hugs to everyone for sticking with me on this journey! The boys aren't out of the woods yet, but the trees are starting to thin. ;)

Chapter Fifty-four

 

“No turning back now…they are both going to die down here anyway.”

Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror Jake worked to rationalize his actions by convincing himself that Peter and Neal’s inevitable deaths might as well do some good for someone. At the time when he’d made the deal with York Jake had truly believed that he was doing what was best. He wasn’t used to caring what happened to anyone else around him and at first he had been elated that he’d found a way to see the sky. However he had quickly come to regret his betrayal and what it would mean for Neal and Peter. Now that it was time to take Neal to a fight he had only had a slim chance of surviving Jake was finding the bitter taste of guilt was tainting his desire to see the sun. 

Jake had tried distancing himself from the pair over the past few days, but it wasn’t making this moment any easier. When Neal had come to him looking to deal with York he had almost confessed to what he had done. He had stopped himself simply because Neal knowing his future wasn't going to change it. He deeply envied the loyalty Peter and Neal had shown one another. He hadn't seen anything like it, even as they were nearing death they still hadn’t turned on each other. Not a believer in true altruism Jake had always assumed any displays of self sacrifice were just superficial and had some deeper ulterior motive. However, Peter and Neal had both proven themselves exceptions to that rule.

"And now I'm going to take advantage of that for personal gain..." 

With a heavy heart Jake stepped out into front room that he’d called ‘home’ for what felt like his entire life. The gray stone and dank air had seeped all the warmth out of what memories he'd had of his life before the Labyrinth. Picking up a nearly empty bottle of tequila off the table Jake drained what was left. Tilting his head back to get the last drop Jake found himself staring up at the concrete ceiling that had loomed over him for years. Filled with a sudden rage he violently threw the bottle into the corner with an animal cry of agonized madness. Curling his lip over his teeth as he panted for breath Jake hardened his resolve to claw his way out of the tomb he’d been imprisoned in no matter the cost. 

“You should have just let me kill you, Neal.” Jake spat. “Danisko will not be as gentle as I was. I tried to help you.”

Having successfully deluded himself into blaming Neal’s continued survival for their current situation Jake stalked out into the halls. Coming to the door he unlocked it and threw it open without knocking. Startled Neal looked up from his place in the corner with a fearful look at first, but he visibly relaxed when he saw Jake. Neal’s trust in him only served to feed Jake’s misdirected anger. On the blanket in from of Neal Peter was locked in sleep from a fever that Neal was trying in vain to break with a wet cloth. Jake glared down at the pair as Neal put down the filthy rag and carefully worked to get to his feet without waking his dying friend. 

“He has to come with us.” Jake said coldly.

“What? He can’t. You promised me he wouldn’t have to fight.”

“I promised you he wouldn’t be in the ring.” Jake corrected. “Burke! Wake up!” 

Jerking awake at the sound of his name Peter scrambled to his feet with surprising speed. He set himself ready to fight before he’d even had a chance to orient himself to the threat. When Neal got up Peter nearly took a swing at him as his adrenaline and illness triggered his offensive instincts. Neal held up his hands submissively and Peter instantly stood down. Jake ground his teeth in envious irritation at how quickly and easily they read one another.

“I’m sorry.” Peter apologized. 

“It’s okay.” Neal smiled. 

“Enough!” Jake snarled. “Let’s go.”

“Jake?” Peter asked concerned. “Jake, what’s wrong?”

“No!” Jake barked. “No talking! Come with me now or I swear I will murder you both where you stand!” 

Neal had stepped up to Peter’s side when Jake had first raised his voice and now he turned to Peter to check to see what their next move should be. Breathing heavily as sweat rolled off his skin Peter took half a step forward to let Neal know he would take lead on the situation. Feeling increasingly isolated from the close knit pair Jake’s resentment rose even though he knew he was the one pushing them away. 

“Jake, I know this is hard, but I don’t blame you for taking us to the ring. You know that right? We don't have to be en…” 

“Stop! You don’t care about me, you just want to make sure that I’ll take care of Caffrey after you’re dead.”

“I want to help you too.”

“Then don’t make me kill you.” Jake said seriously. 

“Jake,” Neal spoke up “I’ll come with you, but…”

“This isn’t a debate, Caffrey.”

“Why are you calling me that? What’s happened? I thought we were…”

“You were wrong.” Jake interrupted before Neal could finish. “Are you two coming with me or do we end this here and now in blood?” 

Once again Neal glanced at Peter for direction in the face of Jake’s violent mood swing even though he had already pulled his shoulders back in preparation to fight. Jake found himself almost hoping that Peter would decide to dig his heels in and that he would have an excuse to kill them before getting a chance to betray them. However Peter sensed Jake’s wiliness to spill blood and kept the peace by nodding slightly in agreement to follow him to the ring. Accepting Peter’s decision Neal relaxed slightly as he backed down. 

Jake turned around quickly to avoid letting the pair see the tears that suddenly stung his eyes. He found it surprisingly painful to see them so united against him, particularly knowing that if he just confessed to what he had done that they would probably try to problem solve with him. However there was no solution at this point. Feeling it more cruel to forewarn Peter that he was about to have to gun someone down Jake kept to his original plan. Walking briskly towards the elevator Jake didn’t look back, he knew they were following him even though they were being quiet. 

Once in the hall leading to the ring Jake’s stomach twisted painfully at the sound of the boisterous crowd. He could remember a time when the racket used to excite him, being in control of the ring matches used to be the only real escape he had from the monotony of the Labyrinth below. Now he found himself resenting the heartless crowd for participating in the macabre show. Without them enjoying the spectacle and throwing money into it York would never have even bothered to set up the underground gladiatorial world. 

Helpless to stop what he had started Jake hung his head as he stepped through the archway that lead to the ring holding area. Ignoring the two new guards that were standing on either side of the room Jake went directly to the cage door only to find the old key lock that he used to be in charge of had been switched out with an automatic system. Knitting his brow he looked to one of the guards. 

“Looks like you just lost your job to a machine.” The guard smirked. 

“You know I almost killed the last guy who stood where you are now?” Jake growled. “Open this before I make an attempt on your life too.” 

The guard looked like he was going to take Jake up on the challenge but when the other guy shook his head in warning he simply reached in his pocket and pressed the remote. More than just a new lock the whole door was set up on a mechanism now that slid open the barred gate. Jake still hadn’t found the courage to look at Peter and Neal, and now was no exception. He just stepped to the side and motioned with his head for them to step inside. Although the pair took the cue without argument Jake could feel them staring at him in hopes of getting some answers. Even once the door closed behind them Jake couldn’t bring his eyes up and just stared at the floor. 

“Neal, this match is yours.”

“So we’re back on a first name basis?” Neal asked in a anxiously joking tone. “Anything I should know about my opponent?”

“Don’t let him get a hold of you.” 

“Jake…” Peter started. 

Peter was distracted by the opening of the gate into the ring and the crowd getting louder. Knowing Peter was going to panic when he caught sight of Danisko Jake retreated back out into the hallway. The rest of the fight was out of his hands anyway. Leaning against the wall Jake closed his eyes and swallowed the bile that was stinging the back of his throat. A pit opened up in his stomach as the bell that signified the start of the fight rang out. Just as he predicted Peter cried out in alarm and protest as he learned just how out classed Neal was. Peter was sent into a sickly coughing fit that sounded like it might manage to put him out his misery before the fight could get too gory, however once he recovered he became fully focused on trying to shout out warnings and instructions to Neal. 

“Left! Damn it, Neal, watch your left!” 

The reaction of the crowd told Jake that Neal hadn’t successfully protected his left despite Peter’s best efforts at coaching. Sliding down the cold wet wall Jake sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest as the unbalanced fight raged on. Finally unable to hold back his tears Jake cross his arms over his knees and hide his face as he listened to Neal losing the fight. 

“You really have gone soft, Jake.” 

Jake jerked his head up at the sound of York’s voice. Stunned to see York Jake just stared up at him. 

“I thought I’d watch this one ‘ring side’.” York chuckled. “Cheer up, Jake, if Burke performs well you’ll get to see the sky.” 

Too heartbroken by the sounds of Peter’s increasing desperation as Danisko tortured Neal Jake couldn’t find any joy in the prospect of York making good on his promise. York didn’t waste any more time on Jake as he went to taunt Peter with the chance to save Neal using lethal force. Hiding his face in his arms again Jake hoped that Peter decided that vengeance was more important than friendship and that he would use that one bullet on York. Knowing that would never happen Jake waited to hear the shot kill Danisko. 

Jake’s anxiety rose when he heard the bell go off signaling the end of the fight without hearing a shot. Peter was shouting about the fight being over, but apparently Danisko was breaking the rules and continuing to beat on Neal. Jake wondered if York had promised Danisko a large sum of money to carry the fight past the bell. It was perfect for York, with the match over he had every right to let Peter put Danisko down. 

“Let him go!” 

Peter’s forceful command was instantly followed by the crack of his weapon. For the first time the every present noise of the crowd fell deathly silent. Jake hugged his knees to his chest and shivered as he waited to hear if Peter had been in time or if Neal was already lost. 

“I told you that eventually you’d kill for me, Agent Burke.” York leered.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

York’s only reply was a mocking laughter that filled Jake with a blinding rage. When York stepped back out into the hallway Jake briefly considered attacking him. However once he was looking up at the living demon that had tormented him for most of his life Jake lost all of his courage. Cowering submissively at York’s feet Jake weld his eyes shut in terror. 

“Congratulation, Jake.” York smiled. “It’s going to be raining tomorrow morning, but by afternoon it should be beautiful. I will come get you for your reward. You still want to see the sky don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” Jake lied. 

All Jake wanted right now was for York and his men to leave. He had known from the start that York would make good on his promise. He also knew that as soon as he saw the sky York would have him killed. This set up was the last useful thing Jake had to offer him. York would see it as a matter of principle to get rid of him now. Feeling more miserable by the second Jake wished he hadn’t given up on Peter and Neal just for a brief glance at the sky. Even if they never made it out sharing in their friendship would have been better than a glimpse at a cold expanse of blue, he could see that now, but it was too late.

The moment York left Jake scrambled to his feet and rushed into the next room to see if Neal was still alive. Peter was still locked in the small cell with Neal in his arms. As limp as he was it was impossible for Jake to tell if he was dead or just unconscious. Jake rushed up to the bars as Peter’s knees gave out on him. Landing hard on his knees Peter still managed to keep Neal against his chest. With his strength fading fast Peter poured all his concentration into simply keeping Neal up off the ground. 

“Open the door!” Jake ordered. 

Looking disinterested the guard reached into his pocket and pressed the button again. Jake immediately went to put his fingers against Neal’s throat to check his pulse. Jake was surprised to find Neal’s heart was still beating strong and at a relatively calm pace considering what he’d just been through. Neal was unconscious, however he had fared surprising well against Danikso. Audibly wheezing for breath Peter looked close to passing out as well. Jake tried to take Neal from him to help. Holding Neal tighter Peter shook his head stubbornly, not willing to give him up. 

“Peter…”

Shaking his head again Peter shifted his weight and tried to get to his feet. Jake was about to help him up when he noticed the gun laying forgotten on the concrete floor. Glancing over his shoulder to see if the guards were paying attention Jake took a chance and grabbed the weapon. It had been forever since he'd held a gun but as a teenager he had been obsessed with them. The government issue was a large powerful weapon that was designed for both easy use and maintenance. Opening the heavy Glock Jake found what he was looking for before clicking the slide back into place and leaving the gun where he’d found it. 

Peter was still struggling to get to his feet, determined to get Neal back to safety if it was the last thing he did. Knowing it was pointless to try and wrestle Neal away from him Jake stood behind Peter and helped him up by lifting him up by the waist. Once up Jake slipped in by his side and helped him back towards their room. 

Jake wasn’t sure how they managed to make it all the way back, but they did. Peter carefully laid Neal down on the blanket and using the wet cloth that Neal had been using he started to try and get the blood off Neal’s face. Neal opened his eyes and looked up at Peter and smiled before closing them again. Rather than passing out he seemed to just drift off to sleep. Jake edged a bit closer and knelt down next to Peter. He wouldn’t have blamed him if he attacked him but instead Peter just looked at him wearily. 

“Did you know?” Peter asked without any discernible emotion. 

“Yes.” Jake confessed. “Peter…I am so sor…”

“Thank you.” Peter interrupted in a hollow whisper. 

“Wh...what?”

“Thank you for not telling me before hand.” Peter clarified. “I still would have done it...but it would have been harder if I’d known. It would have been...different."

"I know."

"I promised Neal I would help him fight to the last breath…" Peter sighed heavily "but I don’t know if I can go much further.”

“Don’t give up just yet…”

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of metal about three inches long with a short tab at the end that gave it an ‘L’ shape. Peter furrowed his brow as he reached out and took the object and turned it over in his hand. They would need to shave it down a bit, but it was already nearly perfect. 

“This is the firing pin out of my Glock.”

“No it isn’t…it’s the second half of a lock pick set.”


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-five

Sitting at his desk Hughes couldn't help but be distracted by the rain that lashed against the window behind him. The forecast called for the skies to clear up by the afternoon, but the storm didn't appear to be letting up. Having trouble concentrating the dark rainy day outside wasn't helping his mood. Despite their initial hope that the Collins lead would go somewhere it wasn't really getting them anywhere, and worse yet their current active case load was making it increasingly difficult to devote time to it. Trying to plow through extra work after the already long day was done without any results was becoming draining both mentally and physically.

Already on edge Hughes jolted violently when there was an abrupt knock at his open door. Hughes' blood ran cold as he looked up and saw his boss standing in the doorway. It wasn't that the appearance of Andrews himself was distressing, it was what he was holding. Andrews welcomed himself in holding two medium sized matte black boxes.

"Hello, Reese." Andrews said with a sad smile.

"Assistant Dire…"

"It's time, Reese." Andrews interrupted. "I know it, and if you were honest with yourself you'd know it too."

"We have a possible lead." Reese said without thinking.

"And I suppose you handed that lead off to Agent Walsh immediately instead of over working your own people?" Andrews asked with a heavy sigh.

"I…"

"Don't worry about it. Just give whatever you have over to Walsh, I promise you he's good."

"I know he is."

"I'm going to leave this here." Andrews said putting the black boxes on Hughes' desk. "When I come in next Monday I want to see it where it belongs."

"David…"

"No more excuses." Andrews said firmly. "Honor your fallen Agent. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir."

Andrews quietly let himself out without further word. With a sickening pit opening in his stomach Hughes stared at the boxes he had left behind. Reaching out with a resigned sigh Hughes pulled the sleek boxes closer. Opening the top one he stared down at the 8 by 10 silver framed photograph of Peter. Peter had his usual good natured expression in his dark eyes with a hint of a lop sided smile on his lips. Closing the lid on the box and setting it aside Huges opened the other one even though he knew what was inside. Neatly folded into a triangle and placed inside a wood and glass case was a beautifully hand stitched American flag, along the outside edge of the frame was a silver medallion of the FBI seal, Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity written boldly in the banner inside the seal. The sight of the bright white stars against the deep blue background caused Hughes' eyes to uncharacteristically sting with tears. Heavy hearted he closed the second box and pushed both to the side of his desk.

There was another knock at his door, this time lighter as if the visitor didn't really want to intrude. Jones waited for Hughes to nod before stepping inside. Walking up to the desk Jones looked over at the boxes and froze for a moment. Hughes could see the stress of working in his new position as ASAC and continuing to try to work Peter's case wearing on the veteran. Jones was not the kind to leave a man behind, but it was starting to look more and more like that was exactly what they needed to do in order to keep moving forward.

"Is that what I think it is?" Jones asked solemnly.

"It is." Hughes nodded. "We'll have the memorial wall hanging ceremony on Friday."

"Honestly I think the department could use the small amount of closure that will provide. It's painful to have Peter and Neal suddenly gone, but I think ignoring the hard reality of it isn't helping."

"It's not." Hughes agreed. "Although it's not putting Peter on the wall that's going to make this real for me…it's taking this flag to Elizabeth with no answers to go along with it."

"I would like to be there when you do, I'm sure Diana wants to be there as well."

"Thank you, I know that will mean a lot to her."

"How is she doing?" Jones asked apprehensively.

"I don't really know. She has been working with someone from Light for the Lost, which seemed like a positive step, but now she thinks it might be a money laundering front."

"Maybe it is." Jones shrugged. "Elizabeth has good instincts."

"I looked into it briefly, the organization is squeaky clean and well respected. However they do move a ton of money, most of it directly to Skiptracers."

"I don't like Skiptracers, I don't trust them." Jones said darkly. "I'm not saying they are all bad, but there's a lot of conning to be done when people are desperate for answers."

"I agree, but Light for the Lost works with nearly a hundred different ones. If Walker is laundering money through them it would be an extensive and complicated network. He would have to have absolute faith in the loyalty of his accomplices to keep something like that quiet. Although a set up like that would be nearly impossible to prove if run properly."

"Yeah, that's a serious many headed snake, even if you nailed a handful of the Skiptracers there would be no real tracing it back to the source. Even if you tried any half way decent lawyer could get that tied up in the courts indefinitely."

"And Walker could afford better than halfway decent. Assuming he is doing anything wrong. I'm not convinced anyone could set something like that up and be completely off our radar." Hughes said with a hint of doubt.

"Sir?"

"There is one thing that does still bother me. Shortly after all this started Walker went to Elizabeth directly to invite her to Light for the Lost."

"What? We never went public with Peter and Neal's disappearance."

"He said he had a friend in the FBI."

"But no name."

"No. I looked into it at the time, but there were no red flags around Walker or his organization and he was known for personally inviting other people in the past. He's very well connected and respected so it's not a huge surprise he found out about it since missing persons is what he specializes in."

"But do you really think an Agent would tell Walker something like that?"

"No, but word spread through this building like wildfire and there are plenty of people working here that aren't Agents and people love to share news with powerful people."

"True."

"It's all just speculation and tail chasing." Hughes sighed. "Elizabeth wants someone to blame and so do I, but there's no good evidence of anything anywhere."

"Diane is sifting through Collins' financials as we speak even though she's supposed to be on the Macelli case, I've wanted to help more with it but…"

"I know, it's okay." Hughes assured.

"She mentioned it was slow going because of having to go down all the rabbit holes that were caused by his philanthropy. Collins moved a lot of money basically all the time. I know it's a huge jump between running a charity and being a money laundering kidnapper for hire, but Walker's organization does special in missing persons. What if there is something going on? What if Light for the Lost is some sort of front for more than just laundering? What if he's making some of these people missing?"

"I don't know...why take such a huge risk in contacting the spouse of a victim?"

"…ego?" Jones guessed. "I don't know Walker, but if he's a major kingpin that is completely unknown to the FBI he's probably one cocky bastard."

Hughes knit his brow as he thought though Jones' scenario. He had to admit it was fairly insane, but so was two highly skilled men going missing without a trace. He wasn't used to taking a leap of faith without any hard evidence, going on gut instinct was more Peter's specialty. It was dangerous to even hint at accusing rich men of being anything other than outstanding members of society,

"Diana?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Did Collins ever donate to an organization called Light for the Lost?"

"Yes."

"You answered that quickly."

"Light for the Lost was one of the charities he donated to near his son's death so it was top on list for looking into. However it looked legit, plus it wasn't the first time he had donated to them so it didn't throw up any flags like a pay off. It looked like a dead end to me. Why do you ask? Do you have something?"

"How much did he donate?

"Twelve million. I know that sounds high, but it's not outside the norm, he arranged a seventeen million grant to UNICEF right before his suicide. In fact he started giving heavily to a lot of places in the months leading up to his death, twenty three charities in total. He donated everything 'anonymously' so the charities didn't know who it was but of course he had to declare it on his end. He literally gave almost all his money away before the end."

"Thank you." Hughes hung up the phone and looked up to Jones. "It looks like there's a connection between Collins and Walker, on it's own it doesn't really mean anything…but it's there."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to get Charles Walker in Interrogation within the hour."

"Do I have any actual charges I can use to make that happen?"

"No, but if he is our man he's also confident that he's untouchable."

"You think he'll come willingly just to internally gloat?"

"I do. And it's over confidence like that that gets you caught."


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter Fifty-six

Neal tentatively surfaced into consciousness without opening his eyes. He wasn't in as much pain as he felt he should be in, but instinct told him that if he tried to move he'd end up bathed in a wash of agony. Content to stay still Neal concentrated on the soothing thumping of Peter's heart. Unable to bear Neal's weight against his broken ribs on his right Peter had laid Neal down on his side with his back up against the warm wall and had pinned him there against his left side. Tucked up under Peter's arm like a chick under a protective hen's wing Neal's ear rested over the healed brand on Peter's chest. The slow rhythmic rise and fall of Peter's chest told Neal he was sleeping giving Neal more reason not to move and disturb him.

Warmed by the heat radiating off Peter's skin from fever Neal was on the verge of falling back asleep when he finally took notice of an out of place sound. The noise was perfectly consistent which was how it had escaped his attention before. It was the distinct sound of metal being rubbed at a fast pace against stone. Although not an alarming noise it did trigger Neal's curiosity enough to keep him awake.

Prying one eye open Neal was met with darkness that spiked his blood with panic for a moment in fear that Danisko had blinded him. However on closer inspection he could see a sliver of light along the bottom of his vision and he guessed the Peter must have remembered to blind fold him to protect him from the ever present light. For a while they had been concerned with greater threats than the eternal light, but Neal did feel like he'd slept better this time around. Reaching up very carefully Neal pulled the tie off. The left side of his face that Danisko had struck several times protested painfully and his vision on that side held a slight red haze to it. With the memory of the fight very chaotic in his head Neal couldn't quite piece together how he had escaped it alive, he remembered hearing the bell that ended the fight but he seemed to remember the fight continuing after that.

Ignoring the injury and the broken memory for now Neal tried to find the source of the sound without moving further. Sitting on the far corner of the wool blanket Jake was rubbing something in his hand aggressively against the floor. Neal was surprised to find Jake with them, he last time he had seen Jake he had reverted back into his violent psychotic prison master persona. In the days leading up to the fight he had barely stepped foot in there room, and now after shoving Neal into a fight he had no hope of winning he was sharing their space like he belonged here once more.

Not appreciating being thrown to the wolves with Danisko Neal ground his teeth in anger as he realized that Jake had likely known all along what was going to happen. Instead of even attempting to prepare them he had slunk off like a coward and avoided them. Neal drew a breath to snarl at Jake to leave when Jake suddenly held up the object he was working on to inspect it. Shocked and excited by the sight Neal sat bolt upright without even thinking.

Startled by the quick motion Peter jerked awake with a cry of pain that quickly degraded into a uncontrollable racking cough. Not knowing how else to help Neal put his hand over Peter's heart in an attempt to help calm him as he fought for breath. Neal winced guiltily as Peter growled in pain as the coughing aggravated his ribs.

"I'm sorry, Peter. Just breathe."

Closing his eyes Peter did manage to relax although now his every breath had a sickly wet sound to it as his already struggling lungs were agitated further. Having increasing trouble on his back Peter started to struggle to sit up. Neal tried to help him but his left shoulder that had been injured in the fight against Danisko lanced pain down to his fingertips and up behind his ear. Carefully putting his metal prize down Jake came over and helped Peter sit up before backing off again.

"Peter…"

"I'm fine." Peter interrupted. "How are you doing?"

"If Jake has what I think he has, I think we are all about to do a lot better."

"Is this going to work?" Jake asked hopefully as he handed the shaved firing pin to Neal.

"It's perfect, where did you get this?"

"It's out of my gun." Peter answered.

"How…"

Neal stopped could as he suddenly recalled exactly how the fight had ended. Seeing the horrified look in Neal's eyes Peter reached out and put his hand over Neal's.

"It's okay, Neal, I had every right to take that shot."

"Thank you." Neal said warmly. "I'd say I can never repay you, but that might not be true."

"Get that door open and we are more than even." Peter smiled.

"Deal."

As excited as he was to try opening the door Neal still needed Jake's help to get to his feet. With a chance of escape Neal decided that holding a grudge against Jake right now was pointless, they were all prisoners and they needed to stick together now more than ever. Once upright Neal feared that his blood pressure was going to bottom out, forcing him to lean against the wall for a moment. Needing help up as well Peter didn't look much better standing than Neal did. Jake watched the pair apprehensively expecting one or both of them to drop.

"We have to get out here." Neal whispered.

"We're going to." Peter assured.

"It's not going to be easy," Jake sighed "the rot in that room is going to be over powering."

"I can handle it." Neal said firmly.

"You say that…"

"We have to try." Peter pointed out.

Jake nodded his agreement but still looked doubtful. Neal couldn't blame him for not wanting to get his hopes up after so many years trapped down here. Knowing Peter's time was running short as the pneumonia progressed Neal wasn't going to let him think about what they were going to do if he couldn't open the door or if it didn't lead anywhere. Putting all his hope in the two scraps of metal they had managed to obtain Neal got the thick needle from its hiding place and took the firing pin from Jake. They were crude, but from what he could tell the last time he looked at it the lock itself wasn't that high quality either.

Coming to the hallway that held their possible escape Neal's stomach turned at the stench of decay that rolled down the dark corridor. By the time they got to the outer door to the room it was as if the air got physically thicker, slowing them down as they approached. Jake lost his stomach first and retched bile on the floor. Peter was panting heavily though his mouth looking ivory pale but kept from another coughing fit despite several near starts. Swallowing the bile at the back of his own throat Neal swore he could taste the death.

"Is Sawyer in there?" Peter asked.

"No." Jake shook his head. "I left all of them where they were."

"Okay, let's just do this quickly. Neal, I still don't want you seeing Miller." Peter said pulling the tie he'd brought along out of his back pocket. "I'll guide you to the door. Jake, watch our back, make sure no one sneaks up on us."

"No one comes down here, Peter, they know better."

"Please, just keep watch. We might draw attention if someone happens by."

"Okay."

"Neal, are you ready?"

Neal answered by taking the tie and blinding himself with it. Peter warned him that he was opening the door but the advanced notice didn't help Neal prepare for the toxic air that rushed out. Doubling over he instantly threw up on the stone floor. He could hear the others having similar issues. Neal was becoming dangerously dizzy when he felt Peter take him by the elbow. Wasting no time Peter dragged Neal into the den of death. Neal hadn't thought the smell could possibly get any worse, but he was wrong. Beyond being difficult to breath it was hard to even think as all his instincts screamed at him to run from the obvious danger here. Moving forward at Peter's insistence Neal jerked back when he stepped in something cold and wet. Peter forced him forward again back into the fluid on the floor before stopping him just short of the door.

"…Neal? Neal?" Peter coughed. "You with me?"

Not trusting his voice as his stomach bucked like a bronco Neal just nodded.

"We're here, I'm going to take the blindfold off, don't look around or even down. Eyes front."

Nodding again Neal closed his eyes as Peter drew away the cloth. He trusted that he didn't want to see the sickly puddle he was standing in or its source and poured all of his focus into the lock. With his eyes watering he had trouble even getting the lock pick set up. Once he had the firing pin in the lock and the needle against the first pin he closed his eyes to help him concentrate on the feel of the mechanism. He felt like he almost had it when Peter started retching nosily, setting off his own stomach again as well.

Peter tugged on Neal's elbow to encourage him to leave and get some fresh air before trying again. More desperate to get out of the Labyrinth than away from the acrid smell Neal shook his head and turned his attention back to the lock. The last pin was giving him trouble and his adrenaline was starting to make him shake making the job even more difficult. If he couldn't do this they were all going to die down here. Determined to not let that happen Neal forced himself to relax and shut out the rest of the world, the only thing that mattered was the needle raking against the stubborn pin. With a click that lifted his heart like a kiss from a long lost love Neal turned the lock and the door swung open.

Losing his balance as the door gave way Neal yelped as he fell forward. Peter quickly wrapped his arm around Neal's waist and kept him from falling into the black ooze that coated the floor. Staring down at the terrifying pool Neal managed to scramble into the next room with Peter's help. Peter called out to Jake and with in seconds they were past the door that had remained between them and freedom for so long. Closing the door they all rushed down the hallway that they found themselves in just to get some air that wasn't tainted with death.

Once they were a hundred yards away they all stopped as they panted for much needed breath. Looking back the way they had come at the closed door Neal found himself laughing as relief washed over him. Smiling brightly for the first time in months Peter pulled Neal into a powerful embrace despite the way it shifted his injured ribs. Feeling like he'd just completed a marathon Neal enjoyed the rush of a demented kind of 'runner's high'.

"I knew you'd get us out of here." Peter said proudly.

"I knew you'd keep me alive long enough to try." Neal smiled.

"I hate to be a buzz kill," Jake said morosely "but this is just more of the same. We're not out."

"This tunnel is different." Peter gestured around "There are no side doors, this is an entrance/exit, I'm sure of it."

"Only one way to go now anyway." Neal said. "Let's go."

Jake looked apprehensive about joining them as they started down the tunnel, still not wanting to put too much hope into where it would lead. Neal paused when he noticed that Jake wasn't keeping up and encouraged him to keep going. With what looked like a shy smile at being included Jake nodded and picked up his pace to keep step with them. The tunnel continued for a few hundred yards before taking a sharp right hand turn that lead to a short hall with another door.

The second door wasn't locked but upon opening it Neal's heart sank. It was a concrete stairwell but most of it had collapsed in on itself. There was no way up, however picking through the rubble it was possible to go down. With no options they carefully made their way deeper into the earth. Quickly getting to the bottom of the stairwell one floor down Neal inspected a large sheet of concrete that had fallen over the door. Slipping his arm in between the small gap left Neal gauged the space and decided that with a little work he'd be able to get through. Relieved to have an exit Neal looked back at Peter and had a horrifying realization. Even with all his weight loss at six foot two there was no way Peter was fitting through the narrow space. Jake had no better chance than Peter of getting through since at is was Neal was going to have to sacrifice a bit of skin to fit.

"Neal..."

"We can move this." Neal said desperately as he pushed on the immense piece of stone.

"Neal," Peter repeated gently "this is as far as Jake and I go."

"Peter, no."

"The rest is up to you."

Panicking at the thought of having to leave Peter behind and go alone Neal started panting for breath. Understanding Neal's distress Peter stepped up to him and pulled him into a warm embrace to help calm him. Neal accepted the contact but it didn't help the dread in his heart. He and Peter had been all but inseparable during this whole ordeal and Neal wasn't ready to abandon him even though he knew it was for the best. Keeping his hands on Neal's shoulders Peter back up just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

"Neal, you can do this."

"I can do this." Neal repeated in hopes that it would help him believe it.

"I'm not even going to ask you to tell Elizabeth I love her because I know you're going to get me out of here so I can tell her myself."

"I am." Neal said with more confidence.

"Good, now go."

Neal appreciated that Peter wasn't treating this like a good-bye. He looked over Peter's shoulder at Jake who nodded to him in a silent promise to keep Peter as safe as he could. Neal turned his attention back to Peter and smiled when he saw that Peter wasn't bluffing, his calm confidence that Neal would manage to bring back help was genuine. Peter smiled as well before gesturing towards the tiny exit. Having found courage in Peter's faith in him Neal worked his way past the large stone that was keeping the others trapped. Once on the other side he took one last look back through.

"I'll be back."

"We'll be here."

After brief hesitation Neal turned down the dark tunnel and set off on his own. His previous excitement of finding a way out was severely tempered by the fear of having to press on alone and possibly not returning in time. With time and ever increasing factor Neal started to trot as he followed the oddly winding path of the tunnel that looked only half complete. Unlike the other areas after about 50 yards the walls were no longer smooth concrete, instead they had turned to rough hewn stone. In several places the ceiling had collapsed in, but thankfully he was able to get past the blockages easily.

Neal paused as he came to a large crack in the left side of the wall. Peering into the perfect pitch darkness in the crevice it was impossible to tell how far back it went. Deciding to follow the larger tunnel for now Neal kept moving. Coming to another door Neal was disheartened to find that it was another collapsed stairwell. He spent a few minutes trying to find a way to get past the rubble but none of the gaps lead anywhere useful.

Determined not to give up Neal returned to the broken wall that he had passed. It didn't look like anyone had purposefully tried to expand the tunnel in this direction, it appeared to be more of a natural fissure in the bedrock. With no lighting inside the crack it was going to be easy to get lost if there were any number of twists or turns. With his only other option to return to Peter and wait for death Neal took the chance of getting hopelessly lost in the darkness since it at least held a shot at finding a way back to the surface.

Having to turn to the side to slip into the fissure Neal's heart raced with claustrophobia as the dim light from the tunnel started to fade as he squeezed through the cracked stone. Coming to his first intersection Neal worked on building a map in his head so he could retrace his steps if need be. Around the corner he was plunged into a thick darkness and although the area had opened enough for him to walk he had to keep his hands on the walls to make sure he didn't miss any turns or run into any obstacles.

Counting his steps to help him find his way back to starting points Neal pressed further into the blinding darkness as the walls alternated between closing in on him and opening back up. After three turns he ran into a dead end. The fracture pattern in the stone lead to multiple off shoots and turning around in the absolute darkness he was instantly disoriented. Swallowing his fear Neal took a deep breath and reset his count in his mind as he returned to the last intersection and chose the other direction this time. After two more episodes of trial and error leading to dead ends Neal was starting to give up hope on both finding a way out and on finding his way back.

With his heart pounding painfully Neal was considering turning back when his vision picked up on a very faint greenish blue glow. Making his way towards the light source he came to another mass of collapsed stone with a gap in the top that the soft light was pouring out of. Feeling out the rubble Neal moved as much of it as he could before making a small opening in the top of the pile as large as he could. Crawling up over the rock he got halfway through the barricade before getting his hips stuck. Struggling to back up Neal's ribs caught on the stone trapping him against the ceiling. Caught between a literal rock and a hard place Neal cried out as he clawed his way forward ignoring the rough rock scraping down his lower back.

Managing to force himself through Neal tumbled down the far side of the rock pile and landed hard on the dusty floor. Laying on the cold floor bleeding heavily from the abrasion down his back Neal took a moment to gather his wits. Getting back to his feet shakily he stumbled forward towards the promising glow. The source of the light slowly grew brighter as he drew closer until he came to an natural looking archway.

Stepping through the archway Neal found himself in a half collapsed cavern that held a large glassy surfaced pool that was glowing softly with unnatural light that came up out of the water. It took Neal a solid five minutes before he could talk himself to even step towards the crystal clear pool. Trembling uncontrollably Neal forced himself to stand on the edge as his breathing became increasingly quick and shallow. Peering into the deadly calm water he could see where it extended out under the far wall in an underwater cavern at the end of which was the mysterious light source. Kneeling down in front of the pool Neal tried to get a better idea of how far away the light was. The water itself looked to be at least fifteen feet deep and with the distortion it was impossible to tell how far under the rock it traveled before reaching the light. He couldn't even tell if that light was submerged as well or if it was coming from an air pocket. In any case it looked like it would take all of his breath to reach it leaving none to get back if it was another dead end.

Under any other circumstances Neal wouldn't have hesitated to get into the water and explore around. However with his hydrophobia starting to choke him just sitting near the liquid trap Neal wasn't sure if he could even get in the water let alone swim under the stone without passing out the way he had in the shower. Reaching out with a shaky hand Neal placed his palm against the surface causing a cascade of ripples to race across the surface. Dry heaving as his adrenaline spiked nauseatingly Neal scrambled backed away from the water. Getting to his feet Neal paced like a tiger in a cage as he raked his hands through his hair compulsively.

"I can do this. The light has to be coming from somewhere. I can do this." Neal told himself out loud as he continued to pace. "Even if I can't…better to die trying."

Forcing himself to stop his pointless pacing Neal faced the water's edge. Filling his lungs and exhaling completely a few times Neal fought to both calm himself and steel his courage. Not trusting himself to lower himself into the suffocating water Neal back up until he felt the wall behind himself. Before he could think too much about it Neal took one last deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall. Breaking into a quick run Neal leapt forward at the last moment. Barely making a splash Neal dove head first into the pool towards the light that was either beckoning him to freedom or luring him to his death.


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter Fifty-seven

Standing in the rubble of the caved in stairwell Jake watched Peter's health visibly decline with frightening speed. After ten minutes of standing silent guard at the impossibly small gap that Neal had somehow managed to slip past Peter had gone from just putting his palm against the wall to leaning his shoulder into it to keep standing. He had used the last of his strength to get Neal this far and now that his charge was gone he was fading fast. With a painful sounding cough Peter spat blood on the dirty floor.

At first Jake had been a little nervous about being left alone with Peter, he knew that Peter tolerated him mostly for Neal's sake in hopes that if he could no longer protect him that Jake would take over. With Neal gone Jake had felt that it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities that Peter would turn on him. However seeing that he was far more ill than he had let Neal believe Jake relaxed knowing that Peter couldn't pose a threat to him right now even if he wanted to.

Waiting the dark stairwell Jake didn't have any real faith in Neal returning with help. With this last chance at escape literally blocked off Jake was starting to think about heading back to the Labyrinth in hopes that he could still talk York into honoring his promise to take him to see the sky. If York discovered Neal missing he would just kill everyone in the Labyrinth and shut it down in an attempt to help hide his crimes. However Jake reasoned that if he could at least get Peter back he might be able to trick York into thinking everything was fine with a pile of blankets in Neal's place. After years of successfully keeping captives York would have no reason to check too closely on his near dead prisoners. Although as it was Peter seemed determined to die at the spot that he'd been forced to send Neal past alone.

"Peter," Jake carefully broke the silence "we should go back."

"No." Peter shook his head slightly but stopped when the motion made him gag from vertigo. "If Neal can't get out he'll come back here."

"He will come back to the room as well. There's no sense in standing here."

"No." Peter growled stubbornly keeping his back to Jake.

"It could be hours or ever days before he finds a way out and brings someone back." Jake reasoned.

"I'm not going back."

"You do realize that if you pass out and end up on this freezing cold stone floor you'll be dead in an hour, right?" Jake pointed out.

"I'm not going back." Peter repeated.

"Peter…"

"Jake, stop. I'm not going to make it past Miller." Peter admitted quietly as he finally turned around. "I barely made it the first time. If I end up on that floor I'm never getting up again and I'd rather be found here."

Peter proved his point by coughing a spatter of blood across the back of his hand. Jake guessed that somewhere along the line one of his broken ribs must have injured his lung causing it to slowly fill with blood. Even if the puncture was relatively minor Peter probably didn't have another twenty-four hours left in him without medical attention. With the ivory cast to his sweat drenched skin it didn't seem likely that the injury was minor so his time line was probably closer to twelve, assuming he could stay off the floor. Studying Peter for a moment Jake had a sudden realization.

"You were lying when you told Neal that you knew he'd get you out. That was just to get him to leave. You never expected him to make it back in time."

"I didn't lie." Peter said firmly. "He'll get me out."

"But not alive."

"I never said anything about that."

"You should have at least had him relay a message to your wife."

"I don't need Neal to tell Elizabeth I love her; she knows."

Jake paused at the conviction in Peter's tone. Jake couldn't even say with a hundred percent certainty that his own mother knew he loved and missed her. Too weary to remain standing Peter knelt down on the floor and sat back on his heels to keep up off the cold floor as best he could. Jake still didn't feel that rescue was coming, it was more far likely that Neal would get lost in the darkness searching for an exit that didn't exist. However he found himself wanting to at least give Peter a fighting chance in case a miracle occurred. If Peter had asked Neal to stay for his final few hours he would have, but instead he'd sent him away to at least try to increase his odds of survival. No one had ever shown Jake anything even close to that kind of loyalty, but he also knew he'd never done anything to earn it. In this eleventh hour it was too late to make up for any of his past sins, but one act of altruism was better than nothing.

"Stay here. I will go get some supplies and bring them back here."

Peter tried to reply but was interrupted by a coughing spell. Knowing that there was nothing he could do here Jake left and headed back towards the entrance back into the Labyrinth. Taking a deep breath while he still could Jake bolted through the door that had remained locked for so many years. Glancing over at the ruined remains of Miller laying on top of the other dried carcasses Jake could understand why Peter had been so insistent that Neal not see the gruesome reminder of mortality. Barely making it back out into the far hallway Jake dropped to his knees and dry heaved violently for a moment. Peter had been right, there was no way he was going to make it past the unbearable stench in his condition.

Getting his stomach back under control Jake hurried back to the room that Peter and Neal had shared for the past two months. Digging in the small closet he grabbed what little food was left and then filled a few empty Ensure bottles with water. Going back out in the front room he used the large wool blanket to help carry the supplies back to the stairwell. Repeating his trick of getting some breath before hand Jake bolted into the rotting room and raced to the door that he'd left open.

On the far side of the door Jake slammed it shut and paused despite the smell with his hand on the lock. By going back to stay with Peter he was giving up on any chance of talking York into taking him to see the sky. There was always the chance that in his arrogance that the Labyrinth was inescapable that he wouldn't even check to see if Neal and Peter were here. He was going to come as soon as the morning rain let up, and if discovered all three of his branded gone he might actually close down the Labyrinth forever.

"York is going to kill you either way…" Jake muttered to himself "…you need to do once decent thing before he does."

With new conviction Jake threw the bolt to lock the door again. He had no idea if York had the key or if he would even bother chasing them down here. Either way Jake decided that like Peter he didn't want to end up rotting next to Miller and the other victims. It was better to starve in the stairwell, at the very least it technically wasn't a part of the Labyrinth that he'd been trapped in for longer than he cared to remember.

Returning to Peter Jake found him still on his knees but starting to fall asleep. Nodding off briefly Peter was jerked back awake when his head bowed. Putting the small supply of food and water on the floor Jake brought the blanket over and after laying it out next to Peter he helped him on to it. Joining Peter on the few inches of fabric that separated them from hypothermia Jake guided Peter to lay against him before he folded the blanket over him. Peter was already shivering from his time kneeling on the floor but he quickly warmed and relaxed. Although still having trouble catching his breath Peter looked much improved from just a few minutes prior.

"Thank you, Jake."

"It's the least I can do."

"No, the least you could do would have been leaving me here to die alone."


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: You guys have been so good to me that I stayed up late to bring you this chapter that you have been waiting basically a year and half for! Hugs!

Chapter fifty-eight

Holding his breath David brought the six foot fiberglass pole he was holding up and lightly touched its metallic tip against the exposed wire in the side of the broken down subway tunnel. The old subway line had been flooded out fifty years ago and at the time rather than fix it when the waters receded they just concentrated on other lines. With the subways become more crowded and over burdened plans had been made to revamp the old line. However before that could happen it was important to learn if any of the corroded wires were still live before letting a working crew in to do the heavy work. Even though the pole was insulated to keep him safe there was always the slight risk of the electricity arcing. Touching the wire produced a negative reading letting David know it was safe.

"Fifty-six A is cold." David announced. "Chris? Chris, you get that?"

David looked over his shoulder to find his partner standing in the middle of the abandoned tunnel with his head cocked to the side. He was supposed to be marking down the wires that they were cataloging so any live wires could be taken care of a safely. Instead Chris was standing stock still with his brow furrowed, looking transfixed on something.

"Chris?" David waved his hand. "Hellooo?"

"David, come over here."

"Sure, fine, whatever…not like I'm doing a dangerous job or anything." David rambled sarcastically as he walked over. "Seriously, Chris, what the hell are you doing?"

"You can't tell me you don't hear that."

"Hear what?"

"Listen for a second, it keeps repeating."

"I don't hear any…"

"Ssssh!" Chris hissed.

Rolling his eyes David humored his friend and waited in silence. David was about to tell Chris to get back to work when a faint sound echoed eerily off the concrete walls from further down the tunnel. David reached up and rubbed at the hairs on the back of his neck that had been raised by the noise. The reedy note held for a few seconds before dropping off into silence again.

"That!" Chris crowed in triumph. "Tell me you heard that."

"Yeah, I hear it." David replied trying to be nonchalant about how the sound chilled his blood.

"What the hell is it?"

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

"There must be a vent open somewhere." David shrugged. "The wind can make funny sounds down here."

"That ain't the wind either." Chris shook his head. "Come on, let's check it out."

"What? No." David complained. "We've got like two hundred more wires to get through before lunch, and I'm already getting hungry."

"It'll just take a few minutes." Chris insisted. "It's so mournful, I think it might be a dog or something."

"What would a dog be doing down here?" David asked doubtfully.

"I don't know, but it sounds hurt. Stay here if you want, but I'm checking it out."

"Fine." David sighed. "If it turns out to be nothing you're buying me lunch."

"Deal."

Taking his long handled volt meter with him David trotted after Chris who had taken off to hunt out the source of the sound that had caught his attention. The ghostly cry kept repeating itself but not at regular intervals, making it more likely to have an organic rather than mechanical source. However after traveling a good hundred yards they still hadn't come across anything. At first David thought it might be getting louder but then it fell off again. Becoming more and more curious David put his hand out and stopped Chris for a moment.

"Hang on." David stopped. "I think we passed it."

"Maybe it is just the wind."

"No…"

David paused waiting to hear the sound again. It was taking longer for it to repeat itself but when it did there was something about it that was heartbreaking to hear even though he couldn't figure out what it was. Determined to figure it out David turned around and started to back track. Moving more slowly this time they both stopped when the mewling suddenly seemed to come from their left. Having been walking down the center of the tracks to avoid any potential live wires they had walked right past a drainage grate set in the floor on the far side of the rails. Looking down in the darkness didn't really reveal anything but it didn't take long before the siren call that had brought them here lifted up out of the midnight.

"That's not a dog." Chris said anxiously. "What is that?"

"Hold this." David said as he handed Chris the volt meter.

Getting down on his knees in front of the grate David pulled his flashlight off his utility belt. Shining the beam down through the grate revealed a shaft that went down about fifteen feet before hitting stone again. At first David didn't see anything in the narrow beam of the flashlight however moving it slightly to the side David gasped sharply at the sight it revealed.

"Dave?"

"Ohmygod…there's a man down there!"

"What?!"

Chris dropped down next to David and peered down into the grate as well. Laying on the floor bloodied and painfully thin the man gulped a few shallow breaths before fighting to fill his lungs to cry out again. His voice had been worn so raw that even at this short distance he sounded a mile away. Putting down the flashlight David laced his hands into his the grate. Chris followed his lead and together they managed to pull the heavy metal grate off the opening. Shinning the light back down into the shaft David tried to get the man's attention.

"Hey! Hey, Buddy, can you hear me?"

The man jerked violently at the call. He looked up into the light with shockingly blue eyes but instantly weld his eyes shut against the bright light with a weak cry of pain. Realizing what had happened David quickly switched off the light plunging the man back into an inky darkness.

"I'm sorry." David called back.

"Help me...please..."

"We're going to get you out of there." Chris assured before turning to David. "How are we going to get to him?"

"He can't weigh very much, if he can keep a hold of the volt meter I bet we can pull him up." David said before turning back to the grate. "What's your name?"

"Ne…Neal."

"Okay, Neal, can you get up?"

Although he didn't get an answer David could hear him struggling to his feet.

"Alright, I'm going to lower a pole to you, grab a hold, and don't let go."

"I won't."

With Chris holding onto his belt to help pull them back up David laid on his stomach to dangling his front half down into the darkness. Once he was in as far as he could safely go he used the pole to bridge the gap between himself and Neal. Having been blinded by the flashlight Neal had some trouble getting a hold of the pole but eventually David could feel that he had a hold of it.

"On three…1,2,3!"

With Chris's help David pulled himself back up out of the opening keeping a tight hold on the utility pole bringing Neal up as well. The narrow nature of the shaft worked to Neal's advantage once he was up high enough to get his feet against the walls he helped push himself up. Scrambling with the desperation of a trapped animal Neal succeeded in getting to the rim of the hole. From there Chris and David easily lifted him out and up into the tunnel they'd been working in.

Shivering uncontrollably Neal clutched a hold of David as if he was trying to convince himself he was real. Finding himself shaking from the adrenaline of the situation David wrapped his arms around Neal to try and help warm him as he looked up at Chris in shock. He had never saved a life before the rush was a little overwhelming. Looking just as wide eyed Chris laughed in a mixture of excitement and anxiety. David smiled brightly but brought his focus back to the task at hand when Neal started dry heaving violently. Sitting down David cradled Neal to keep him up off the cold floor. Arching his back Neal started fighting senselessly against his rescuer as delirium started to take hold.

"Chris, get to the access junction, call 9-1-1 from the emergency phone there."

"F…FBI…" Neal panted. "FBI…please…"

"FBI?" Chris questioned. "Are you…"

"Chris, go, we need paramedics now!" David barked.

"Right. I'm on it!"

With cell phones worthless in the depths of the old subway the only way to call the surface was from the old hard line phones that were in place at all the major intersection. Breaking into a run Chris left the pair behind to get help. Not in the best shape Chris quickly developed a stitch in his side but he still kept his fastest pace for the half mile it took to get to the access point. The emergency phone was on the wall housed in a thick plastic case that was covered in dust and rusted shut. Slamming his palm against it he was able to shake enough of the rust off to cause it pop open. The phone didn't need to be dialed, it only had one large red button on it.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"I…I need paramedics and police. Oh, and, uh, the FBI."

"Sir?"

"I…I think we just pulled an injured FBI Agent out of a storm drain…"


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter fifty-nine

Standing in front of the floor to ceiling one way mirror Hughes stood with his arms akimbo staring at Charles Walker and his lawyer. Sitting at the table in the interrogation room Walker looked completely at ease. Watching his every move carefully Hughes tried to determine if Walker was going out of his way to act casual or if he was genuinely unconcerned about being at the FBI. Most people, even the perfectly innocent ones, were at least somewhat anxious to be surrounded by authority figures. Sitting back in the metal chair Walker was making small talk with his lawyer as if he was waiting for a board meeting to start. The lawyer answered the pleasantries in as few words as possible, unlike Walker the lawyer was on full guarded alert. Jones stepped into the observation room and stood next to Hughes.

"What do you think?" Jones asked.

"I think I don't like him, but I don't really have any evidence to back up why."

"A gut feeling?" Jones raised an eyebrow. "Peter would be proud."

"He did gamble his career more than once on just his 'gut'."

"True, but to his credit he was rarely if ever wrong."

"Did Walker give you any trouble about coming here?"

"None. In fact he dropped whatever it was he had been doing."

"Yet he did still feel the need to bring his lawyer."

"Actually he had been in a meeting with the lawyer when I arrived. After I introduced myself he refused to leave. I'm sorry about that, I didn't realized he was Walker's lawyer until it was too late."

"It's fine. Sometimes lawyers do more harm than good for their client by being too eager to hide stuff. This lawyer looks like an easier read than Walker."

"Yeah, if Walker's calm is an act it's a really good one. Although I have to say that something about him seems forced."

"As the head of a charity he's a very practiced socialite, he knows how to deal with people but that not the same as being genuine."

Hughes tensed slightly as Walker leaned forward to take one of the glasses of water that was on the table. Walker picking up the glass was exactly what Hughes was waiting for as it would give him access to fingerprints and DNA if he drank from it. Seeing Walker going for the glass the lawyer slapped his hand away to keep him from touching the clean glass.

"The lawyer is on to us." Jones sighed.

"I'm going in there, no sense in making them wait now."

Jones nodded and stayed in the observation room as Hughes circled around to the other side of the interrogation room. Diana was waiting by the door with a blue file folder that he took. When Hughes stepped into the room Walker looked up and smiled at him brightly as if they were old friends. Walker got to his feet and offered his hand to Hughes to shake. When Hughes simply narrowed his eyes slightly at the offer Walker's smile turned to one of apology as he put his hand back down. The lawyer reached up and guided Walker to sit back down. Hughes sat across from the two men, making a point of only making eye contact with Walker. Walker didn't look away or even blink, he stared right back at Hughes without a trace of fear. It was the sheer confidence in his face that tipped Hughes off, he was instantly convinced that Walker was their man. The problem was going to be proving it, that was going to be extremely difficult, something Walker clearly knew. Like so many of the rich men Hughes had taken down in his career Walker believed himself untouchable. Hoping to prove him wrong Hughes prepared to attempt to verbally trap his prey.

"My client has absolutely no comment." The lawyer said coldly before Hughes could even introduce himself. "You are wasting your time and more importantly you are wasting his."

"Easy there, Phil," Walker said "no need to be so confrontational."

"Confrontation is the only thing Feds understand. They have no right to drag you down here."

"No one dragged me down here." Walker corrected. "I was politely asked to come here and I did. I'm sure this is about their missing Agent. I brought this on myself by contacting his wife, for that I am truly sorry. I was just trying to hel…"

"Charles, please, please stop talking." The lawyer begged. "You have to stop right now."

"Phil, I came down here to cooperate, I can't do that if I don't talk. Relax." Walker smiled as he turned back to Hughes. "I'm not under arrest or anything. Right, Agent?"

"Of course you aren't under arrest." Phil answered for Hughes. "That doesn't mean you aren't 'under suspicion'. Everything is being recorded right now and it can be used against you."

"Against me for what?" Walker chuckled. "I haven't done anything. I'm sorry about him, Agent. I would have left him behind but he happened to be in my office when Agent Jones came to invite me here and he invited himself."

"I know an FBI trap when I see one." Phil said bluntly. "Take that glass for instance: they aren't worried about your thirst, they want your fingerprints."

"Fine." Walker shrugged as he reached out and carefully grip the glass to give a clean print. "They can have my fingerprints."

"Charles." Phil sighed heavily.

"In fact, here…" Walker paused and took a sip at the water. "Have my DNA while you're at it."

"Seriously?" Phil growled. "Why do you even keep me on retainer?"

"My CPA insists, you know...your brother."

Hughes stayed silent, allowing the two men to ramble. Their interactions seemed natural on the surface but there was an under current of a heavily practiced 'good client/bad lawyer' feel to their routine. By seeming to cooperate Walker was trying to take the focus off himself and by being belligerent the lawyer was trying to take Hughes' attention off his client. Ignoring the lawyer Hughes kept his steady gaze on Walker. Seeing that their banter wasn't loosing the mood Walker and the lawyer fell silent for a moment.

"Are you two gentlemen finished?" Hughes asked like a disapproving parent.

"We are, Agent…" Walker trailed off so that Hughes could finally introduce himself.

"Hughes."

"How can I help you, Agent Hughes?"

"Do you know this man?" Hughes asked as he opened the file Diana had given him and pulled out a photo that he showed Walker.

"Of course." Walker answered instantly. "That's Harold Collins. I was at his funeral."

"Surely Agent Hughes knew that." Phil said sourly.

"Phil, be quite." Walker growled.

The lawyer stiffened at the sudden dangerous edge to Walker's voice. Looking like a chastised dog Phil fell deathly silent. Feeling like he had just gotten a peek behind Walker's facade Hughes made sure not to tip his own hand. Walker tried to cover up his slip by painting on a concerned expression.

"Is that what this is about? Was Harold's death not a suicide?"

"Talk to me about the twelve million dollars Mr. Collins donated to your organization." Hughes said purposefully avoiding answering Walker's question.

"I don't know anything about that." Walker said with a shrug. "If you could give me a date I could have my accountants look into it. They will be able to find a sum that large easily enough. There is a good chance that if Harold sent that money to Light for the Lost shortly before his death that he did so 'anonymously'. Harold always believed that charity wasn't really charity if you bragged about it."

"I will get the date for you." Hughes assured.

"Anything I can do to help. Harold and I weren't all that close or anything. We knew each other mostly through business, but I did feel for the man. Tragedy followed him. First the disappearance of his wife, then his son's sudden death. I really didn't question it when he killed himself, I just wish I had known him better. I could have helped him."

"You seem like a very compassionate man, Mr. Walker."

"I've dedicated a great deal of my time to helping people who have lost loved ones."

"Have you suffered a similar loss?"

"What?"

"I see you acquired Light for the Lost rather than founded it. How did you choose that organization? Usually when people devote their lives to a charity it's because they've been touched by the cause personally."

"No, I've lead a blessed life, Agent." Walker flashed Hughes a hollow looking smile. "I just saw a need and filled it."

"Very noble."

"I just want to help. There's no crime in that."

"True." Hughes nodded thoughtfully. "Although in this case your reputation has done some real damage."

"Excuse me?" Walker asked caught off guard.

"You mentioned that you're sorry for contacting Elizabeth Burke."

"Yes." Walker nodded. "I should have known better, but I would like to point out that she and my volunteer coordinator have become friends which I'm sure has been invaluable to her during this dif…"

"Elizabeth is not who concerns me." Hughes interrupted. "And although approaching her was inappropriate, your actions aren't what concerns me either."

"Then what does concern you?"

"What concerns me is that my office has a leak." Hughes answered. "Agent Burke's disappearance was a strictly confidential information. If you really wanted to help this Agency you will tell me the name of your friend who told you about Agent Burke's situation."

"I can't do that." Walker shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

"Is there a difference?"

"A big one." Hughes said darkly.

"In that case I 'won't' tell you." Walker said firmly. "I have to protect my friend."

"At the cost of lives? A leak of this magnitude is a life and death matter."

"I'm sorry, Agent, I have my loyalties."

"I bet you do."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Agent?"

"I'm insinuating that I don't think you have any friends here."

For a split second a smile twitched at the corner of Walker's lips as if he impressed with Hughes' suspicions. The reaction to the veiled accusation was exactly what Hughes had been looking for. The downfall of most criminal geniuses was the need to flaunt their skills. Caffrey had taught Hughes that every forger signs his work in some way, and experience had taught him that every truly gifted con artist secretly desired to be recognized. The excitement in Walker's eyes at finally coming across a worthy advisory was clear. Walker had been casually amused before but he looked to be truly enjoying himself now that he knew Hughes was on his tail.

"I have to protest this line of questioning." The lawyer spoke up anxiously.

"It's okay." Walker smiled coldly. "The FBI is just looking under every rock for their stolen Agent. I can't blame them for getting desperate."

"I'm not desperate, I'm determined." Hughes corrected calmly. "The FBI never forgets, never gives up."

"No mercy, no forgiveness." Walker chuckled. "I respect that."

"We are not without mercy. In fact…"

Hughes was cut off as there was a sudden rapid knocking at the door. Grinding his teeth in irritation at the interruption Hughes didn't even get a chance to ignore it as Jones opened the door. Hughes glanced over his shoulder at the perfectly dead pan expression on Jones' face. Jones stared at Hughes silently for a second with the unreadable poker face. Getting the message that he was needed Hughes got to his feet.

"Stay here." Hughes growled.

"I wouldn't dream of going anywhere, Agent Hughes." Walker smiled sweetly. "Things were just starting to get interesting."

Resisting the sudden urge to punch Walker in the face Hughes turned and headed out into the hall. Jones and Diana were both in the hallway with an air of urgency and excitement radiating off of them. Hughes furrowed his brow and took a breath to ask what was going on however Jones stopped him by shaking his head. Jones motioned for Hughes to follow him down the hallway to make sure they were out of earshot of Walker. Finding himself increasingly angry considering he was just getting somewhere with Walker Hughes was in no mood for games as he glared at Jones.

"I hate to sound cliché but this had better be *damned* important!"

"Caffrey was just found alive."


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: this story really is going to be the death of me through lack of sleep. I was so honored by the response to the last chapter that I stayed up to give you the second half of that scene. :)

Chapter Sixty

"What?!" Hughes exclaimed in shock. "Where? How? Where is he now? What about Peter?"

"Two utility workers found him in a storm drain in a shut down subway tunnel that they were working on." Jones explained. "There wasn't any mention of Peter, but from what little info I got apparently the drain Caffrey crawled out of wasn't much bigger than he is."

"If he and Peter were trapped in some sort of underground network it's possible that Peter physically couldn't escape with him." Diana reasoned. "He could still be alive."

"I want our Enhanced SWAT team down that drain yesterday." Hughes ordered.

"Already on it." Jones said.

"Good man. Where's Caffrey? I need to talk to him."

"He's in rough shape," Jones winced "EMS were in the process of rushing him to Presbyterian when PD called."

"Let's go."

"What about Walker?" Diana asked.

"Damn it!" Hughes swore bitterly having forgotten about Walker. "If Peter is still alive I might have killed him by bringing Walker in here."

"You think Walker is our man?"

"I know he is, and the second he's out he's going to cover his tracks."

"I can have Agent's tail him." Jones offered.

"That won't help once he's on private property." Diana pointed out.

"There has to be something we can do." Jones said.

"There's one thing." Hughes said firmly. "Jones, wait for me at the elevator. Diana, come with me."

"Yes, Sir."

Hughes strode down the hall purposefully with Diana close on his heels. Throwing the door open Hughes stepped inside just enough to allow Diana to enter the room as well. Walker looked up at Hughes with a confident smile, ready to continue the game. In contrast the lawyer looked he would rather be anywhere else than here and kept his gaze down.

"Is everything alright, Agent Hu…"

"Charles Walker, you're under arrest." Hughes announced.

"Really?" Walker raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Agent Barrigan, please take Mr. Walker into custody."

"What exactly are the charges?"

"Suspicion of funding terrorism through money laundering."

"You think you can 'Patriot Act' me?" Walker growled darkly. "Over stepping your bounds a little bit aren't we, Agent? You can't possibly have any evidence of that."

"You will be released on bail in twenty-four hours."

"I'll have your job for this. You can't do this."

"Sue me." Hughes countered.

"I plan to."

Hughes didn't like Walker's continued calm control, it didn't bode well for Peter. Walker had the poise of a man who didn't take risks without knowing ahead of time that he was going to win. Even as Diana moved to take him into custody Walker still had a tiny triumphant smirk on his face. Hughes was almost temped to inform Walker that at least one of his victims had slipped from his grasp but the only thing that would accomplish would be increasing Peter's risk.

Leaving Diana to deal with Walker and the paper work Hughes rushed to the elevator. Jones was waiting for him with his suit jacket for him that Hughes slipped on. Jones already had the elevator open and waiting. Once they stepped on he hit the combination of buttons that would take them directly to the parking garage and over ride any stop requests along the way. Turning on the lights and sirens Jones drove Hughes towards the hospital as fast as traffic would allow. Trusting Jones to get him to their destination safely Hughes got his cell phone out and dialed three different numbers before finally getting an answer.

"Agent…"

"Mozzie, be quiet for once in your life." Hughes interrupted. "I need you not to ask any questions."

"What's going on?" Mozzie asked, instantly failing at his task.

"Caffrey is alive. I nee…"

"What?!" Mozzie interrupted understandingly "Ho…"

"Listen, I need you to go get Elizabeth and bring her to Presbyterian Hospital as quickly as you can. I don't want to tell her any of this over the phone."

"Is Peter…" Mozzie trailed off not wanting to finish his question afraid of the answer.

"We don't know anything about Peter yet, but we are working as quickly as we can to find out. Get Elizabeth, bring her to the hospital."

"Wha…what should I tell her?"

"The truth."

Hughes hung up the phone only to dial again. This time someone answered right away.

"Agent Carter SWAT leader, speaking." A commanding voice answered.

"This is Agent Hughes head of White Collar."

"Afternoon, Sir, the boys and I just got to the subway but we've come across a problem that's slowing things down."

"What's going on?"

"There's an Olympic sized underground swimming pool between us and wherever Caffrey came from. We have dive gear being rushed here, but I can't risk sending anyone into the water without it. Honestly I don't know how Caffrey did this."

"Pulling off the impossible is his specialty. I'm on my way to him now."

"Any information at all as to what lies beyond the water would be immeasurably valuable, but we are going to charge ahead as soon as that dive gear gets here. I doubt even our phones will work much deeper than this but we have radio rely set up for communication."

"Understood. Keep in contact with me."

"Affirmative. Don't worry, Agent Hughes, we're going to get our Agent back if I have to drain this damn pool with a bucket myself."

"If it comes to that I'll be right there with you helping."

Hughes hung up the phone as they reached the hospital parking lot. Hughes stepped into the ER waiting area with his badge held up which instantly caught the attention of the two cops on duty.

"Right this way, Agents." Once of the officer said without wasting time with introductions.

The cop lead Hughes and Jones back into the inner workings of the ER where the staff was running around in orchestrated chaos. The cop brought them to a room near the back where another officer was standing guard. Seeing his coworker flanked by Agents the cop stepped forward.

"Agents." The cop greeted. "Doctors are still stabliz…"

The cop was cut off when there was a sudden crash of falling metal followed by shouting in the room. Pushing past the officer Hughes and Jones both rushed into the treatment room. The lights had been turned way down in the room adding to the initial confusion of the scene. Medical instruments spattered in blood were strewn across the floor along with a turned over tray table. Hughes barely recognized the gaunt disheveled man backed up in the corner lashing out blindly like a feral animal. There was a doctor and a nurse trying to get their pt back under control with the help of two hospital security officers. Giving Neal some space for everyone's safety the security guards were trying to figure out how best to get a hold of Neal without hurting him.

Stripped to the waist Neal's blood streaked skin was covered in a myriad of colorful bruises and cuts in various stages of healing that spoke of the nightmare he had survived. The mark that most captured Hughes' attention was the bright pink scaring on his chest in the same maze symbol as the card that had been found on Peter's desk. Trembling so hard he could only keep on his feet by pressing himself harder into the corner Neal weld his eyes shut as he pantomimed screaming. With his voice completely lost Neal's near silent cry was still heartrending to witness as his panic escalated with his inability to vocalize his distress.

"Just stay back," the doctor advised "he'll pass out again in a second."

"No, I can help him." Hughes said.

"He's completely delirious."

"Neal." Hughes called gently as he stepped closer.

Neal snapped his eyes open at the sound of Hughes' voice. Staring at him Neal furrowed his brow as his eyes tracked back and forth rapidly with no real hint of recognition or understanding.

"Neal, it's Reese. Jones is here too."

"Hey, Neal," Jones greeted as he moved so that Neal could see him "it's good to see you."

"We aren't going to hurt you…do you understand?"

Neal didn't react one way or another he looked like he was stuck in a trance.

"Neal, I know you've been through a lot, but we need your help to find Peter. Please."

Hearing Peter's name caused Neal to jolted back as if he'd been electrocuted with a quick shock. When Neal lost what little focus he'd had in his eyes Hughes worried that he was about to pass out. Panting for breath showing his ribs clearly through his wasted muscle Neal shook his head as he battled to both stay conscious and regain his senses. When Neal slowly sank down to his knees Hughes risked approaching him. The security guards watched him carefully but didn't interfere. Moving slowly Hughes got down on his knees in front of Neal and held his hand out.

"It's okay, Neal, you're safe."

Neal stared at the offer warily, still trying to process his surroundings. Hughes held his breath as Neal slowly reached out to take his hand. Hughes stared down at the scars that bracleted Neal's wrist from restraints that further detailed the horrors of his prolonged captivity. Gripping down on Hughes hand the contact seemed to help Neal connect with the situation. Looking up at Hughes there was a sudden spark of recognition in Neal's eyes as he was pulled back from the brink of madness. Instantly looking alert Neal tried to speak but ended up just mouthing Peter's name.

"Neal, is..is Peter alive?" Hughes asked trying not to sound like he was afraid of the answer and failing.

Neal nodded vigorously. Hughes breathed an audible sigh of relief as an immense weight lifted off his chest, Peter wasn't safe yet but as least there was still hope. With a frantic look in his blue eyes Neal reached up and tapped rapidly on his left wrist where a watch would be if he wore one.

"I know time is a factor, we have a team ready, but they need your help. Where is he?"

Neal strained painfully to speak but he could only manage an incomprehensible hoarse squeaking. Frustrated tears streaked down his face as he fought to communicate. He tried again with more effort but no better results. Breaking down from stress Neal bowed his head in a moment of exhausted defeat. With his own eyes stinging with tears Hughes pulled Neal into a comforting embrace. He hated pushing Neal so hard and he knew he was asking more than could be reasonably expected from the tormented CI. Overtaken by emotion Neal cried silently against Hughes chest. Hughes was about to ask Jones to help Neal back into bed when Neal suddenly jerked back with a sharp gasp. Sitting back on his heels Neal brought his hand up and held it as if he had a pen and waved it back and forth to mimic writing. Feeling stupid for not thinking of it himself Hughes looked over his shoulder at the doctor.

"Paper." Hughes demanded. "We need paper and a pen!"

The doctor was quick to produce a few sheet of paper by ripping them out of the paper chart that he'd started on Neal. Jones was just as speedy with a pen and both were offered to Neal. Putting the paper on the floor Neal put the pen to it and started to draw. He quickly drew a quick diagram of the underwater tunnel he'd made it through before hesitating. Closing his eyes Neal recounted his path backwards, drawing out the turns and dead ends as well as writing out the number of steps along each path that he'd memorized in the darkness. Getting to the spot where he'd been forced to leave Peter he drew an X and circled it. On the edge of the page he sketched out the narrow stone archway that he had slipped past before reached up and tapping on the still bleeding scrap across his sternum signifying just how tight a squeeze it was.

"Stone isn't going to stop us from getting to Peter." Hughes assured.

With a hopeful glitter in his eyes Neal smiled brightly. Pulling out his phone Hughes took several photographs of the map and texted them with an explanation to the SWAT team leader. Turning his focus back to Neal Hughes put his hand on Neal's shoulder to make sure he had his attention. Running on the last of his adrenaline Neal's smile quickly faded, replaced by the mournful look of a man suffering from survivor's guilt. Hughes couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Neal to leave Peter behind after their lives had depended on one another twenty-four/seven for over two months.

"I need to apologize, Neal." Hughes said seriously.

Neal flashed Hughes a confused look.

"I told Peter countless times that he was foolish to believe that you'd ever be anything more than a worthless con. I've never been so wrong."


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter Sixty-one

"This is insane…what the hell am I doing?"

Jake looked down at Peter sleeping in his lap. Even unconscious Peter's breathing was a unevenly paced shallow gasping. By staying with him Jake had bought Peter a few hours of life, but the more time that passed the more futile the gesture felt. Jake had been caught up in the moment having witnessed Peter and Neal's loyalty to one another, but now sitting basically alone in the dark the romance of self-sacrifice was wearing off. With nothing else to focus on Jake's still relatively fresh brand suddenly flared up again and throbbed painfully. Trapped between a literal rock and a hard place Jake closed his eyes as tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry…I can't do this."

Even though he knew he was leaving Peter to die he was still careful when he moved him so that he could stand up. Peter didn't wake up but he did start coughing. Continuing to pointlessly care for Peter Jake knelt down and rolled him onto his side to keep him from drowning in any blood he might cough up. Getting back to his feet Jake took a few slow steps back before stopping. Shaking with indecision Jake was finding it hard to leave the helpless Federal Agent to his fate.

Not wanting to stand here and watch Peter die, but also unable to bear the thought of going back to the Labyrinth to grovel to a merciless York Jake was frozen in place. He knew in the end he didn't have any real options, it was over. One way or another death was coming for him. He had tried to fool himself into thinking he was giving up his shot at the sky to stay with Peter to try and make himself feel noble. However in his heart he had known that with Neal gone York was going to just seal them up in this tomb, there would have been no room to negotiate. Jake didn't see how helping Neal escape in the first place was the most selfless thing he'd done in a long time.

With all paths blocked Jake stared down at Peter and suddenly found himself envious of him; Peter was actively dying while Jake had a long wait for starvation. Laying on the blanket without the advantage of Jake's body heat Peter started shivering. Sighing heavily Jake sat back down and pulled Peter back into a warm embrace. At the very least the longer he kept Peter alive the longer he staved off being left alone. Shifting back into his protector role Jake smiled as Peter's shivering calmed.

"I do want to thank you for at least pretending to care about me…it's more than I deserve."

Finding himself terrified that Peter was going to slip away soon Jake rocked gently to try to comfort them both. Closing his eyes Jake found himself crying once again. After all his years trapped in the Labyrinth he was finding these last few hours the hardest to bare. Needing to find some measure of control Jake reached up and dug his nails into the fabric over his brand. Pain radiated through his chest but since he was the one inflicting it he found some relief from his mental torment. The pain helped wash away his thoughts and gave him something other than death to focus on. Grinding his teeth together he dug in harder. He was close to his goal of making himself pass out when a noise tore his attention away from the bath of pain.

Holding his breath Jake waited for the sound to repeat itself with his heart racing. Coming from beyond the narrow gap in the stone that Neal had disappeared in was the distant sound of foot steps. Jake's first thought was that Neal had given up and came back, but as the noise got closer it became the distinct sound of boots on stone and multi pairs at that. Being barefoot Neal wouldn't make nearly as much noise returning to them. Jake was so stunned that he couldn't even react when a man's face peered in on them from between the stone.

"Contact, I've got contact!" The man announced to the others before kneeling down to Jake's level and smiling at him. "Hello, you must be Jake."

"Y…yes…how?"

"Neal told us about you."

"He made it out?" Jake asked in disbelief even though it was obvious that he must have.

"He did, he's doing just fine, but he's very anxious to see you two safe as well. I'm Liam, this is Taylor, and Mitch with me." Liam introduced the rest of the team that Jake couldn't see. "We are from Enhanced FBI SWAT. Do you know what that means?"

"Not…uh…not exactly." Jake admitted.

"It means we're the best of the best." Liam chuckled. "We are going to get you two out of here. Okay?"

Still in shock Jake just nodded. He had convinced himself that rescue was never going to happen so now that it had it felt like he was witnessing something truly impossible.

"Good. First things first I need know if you can wake Agent Burke."

"He's out cold."

"I was afraid of that. Can you find his pulse?"

Jake pressed his index finger against Peter's throat. It took him a moment but he found the artery fluttering below the surface. "It's weak."

"I'm more interested in timing. When I say go, start counting until I say stop. ...Go."

Jake silently counted the beats as directed, noticing a lengthy pause in between beats.

"Stop." Liam called the time.

"Forty-two." Jake reported.

"Not great." Liam said bluntly. "Do you know what a sternal rub is?"

"No."

"Make a fist like this." Liam poked his hand through the gap and demonstrated. "Then rub your knuckles hard against his sternum, don't be gentle."

With Peter still resting against him Jake reached up and followed Liam's instructions to no effect. The rough raking of his knuckles against Peter's sternum was meant to cause pain to rose him, but Peter was too far gone to be concerned with pain.

"You can stop." Liam instructed. "Okay, Plan B. I need you to take this and jab the sharp end into Agent Burke's thigh. It's atropine, it's going to give him a bit of a kick in the ass so stand clear afterwards because he might come out swinging."

Jake had to lay Peter back down in order to get up and retrieve the atropine pen from Liam. Walking over to him Jake felt he was trapped in some sort of dream that was going to reveal itself as some sort of cruel joke at any moment. Stepping up to the gap that was keeping Liam separated from his patient Jake just stared at him in a daze. Liam smiled sympathetically at him.

"Everything is going to be okay." Liam assured. "You're about to save a life, there's no rush like it. I've been at this job for seven years now and it never gets old. Right, guys?"

"Never." Taylor and Mitch agreed in unison.

"You can do this, Jake." Liam said putting the pen in Jake's hand and closing his fingers around it. "One step at a time and we are going to have you both safe on the surface in no time. Sound good?"

Nodding again Jake took the atropine from Liam. Crouching down next to Peter Jake followed Liam's instructions as he raised the pen up and brought it down hard on Peter's thigh. The reaction to the drug wasn't instantaneous and Jake was just about to look to Liam for further instruction when Peter woke violently. Arching his back Peter roared like a bear that had just discovered a rival in his territory. Worried about him hurting himself Jake put his hand on Peter's chest despite Liam's warning for him to get back. With his heart pounding unnaturally Peter moved with surprising speed as he grabbed Jake and rolled him onto the floor to pin him down.

"Stand down, Agent!" Liam barked in a commanding tone. "Stand down!"

Waking to a fight and determined win the familiar order still managed to penetrated Peter's chemically induced rage. Although he didn't understand what was happening at first he did stay his hand and released his captive. Jake sat up looking completely unconcerned by the assault. With his heart still pounding in his ear Peter stared at Jake in confusion.

"Jake? What…"

"Look behind you." Jake smiled.

Automatically looking over his shoulder Peter gasped sharply as his out of control heart jumped up into his throat. Just the sight of the Liam's standard tactical gear was enough to streak tears down Peter's face. Forcing himself up on shaky knees Peter staggered over to the stone barrier before kneeling down again. Peter offered his hand for Liam to shake. Smiling brightly Liam reached through and shook Peter's hand.

"Thank you, all of you."

"It's an honor, Agent." Liam beamed.

"Is Neal okay?" Peter asked anxiously.

"He is, he's at the hospital in stable condition. He drew us a very accurate map to get to you. We could have been down here looking for you for days without it." Liam said before getting out a small foil package with a squeeze top and handing it over to Peter. "Drink this, it will get your blood sugar up. Jake, do you need one?"

"I'm fine." Jake assured.

Knowing that the only thing keeping him upright was atropine and adrenaline Peter drank the sickenly sweet liquid Liam had given him. With his head still spinning at the fact that they had been found Peter's elation turned to panic as he started coughing against a thick sluggish feeling in his chest. So close to rescue he was terrified of drowning in his own blood before he got a chance to see Elizabeth again. The fear closed his throat making it increasingly difficult to catch his breath.

"Agent?" Liam asked concerned.

"He has broken ribs." Jake explained.

"Okay. Just relax, Agent, even if one side has collapsed you've still got one good lung." Liam assured. "Panic is the enemy. You're going to be okay, I promise."

Peter nodded and fought to center himself. Falling back on his training for high stress situation at the Academy Peter started breathing more slowly and deliberately to calm himself. Every breath was still a painful fight but he focused on the side that was getting enough air to quell his panic. Liam watched Peter with a clinical eye while the other two Agents started chatting with someone on the radio. It took a moment but Peter successfully battled through the spell. When Peter looked stable again Liam turned his attention to Taylor for a second before looking back to Peter with an excited grin.

"Better?" Liam asked.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Agent Burke," Liam's smile widened "while we are waiting for the second team to get to you would you like to speak with your wife?"

"Wha…what? Yes, yes, please."

Liam chatted with Taylor again as they set everything up. With a beaming smile Liam offered Peter his radio through the gap. Reaching out for the radio Peter's hand trembled so violently that he couldn't take a hold of it. Liam reached though with his other hand to gently support Peter's wrist to help him steady his grip. Peter found himself suddenly breathing easy as the prospect of hearing Elizabeth's erased his pain from his mind. Swallowing hard against the butterflies in his stomach Peter pressed the contact that activated the radio.

"H…Hon?"

"Peter…"


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Long chapter is long and another seriously late night...but I just had to do it. :)

 

Chapter Sixty-two

_'H…Hon?'_

When Elizabeth had woken in the morning she couldn't even entertain the idea that she might hear Peter's voice by sunset. Finding Peter alive had become a hope that was too painful to even idly dream about. This morning had been particularly difficult to face due to the drizzling rain that struck the bedroom window. There was an odd sort of comfort and enjoyment to be found in a proper thunderstorm, but the half hearted smattering rain only further sank Elizabeth's already heavy heart.

Ignoring the fact that she should have gotten out of bed hours ago Elizabeth just curled up tighter under the covers. Even with Satchmo laying next to her there was a chill to the sheets that kept Elizabeth from being able to actually go back to sleep. Hungry and needing to go outside Satchmo whimpered quietly with a hesitant wag to his tail. Opening her eyes Elizabeth managed a slight smile at the site of Satchmo using Peter's pillow. Satchmo had been very hesitant at first to accept her invitation to start sleeping on the bed. Peter firmly believed that a dog's place was on the floor and he had trained Satchmo well. Elizabeth had stuck to that rule for about a week after Peter's disappearance, but eventually she couldn't handle sleeping alone anymore.

In the past two months Satchmo had gotten used to his new position on the bed, however he still went on his nightly search of the house for Peter before he would jump up to lay down. Sensing Elizabeth's distress but not understanding it Satchmo often roved the house with his nose to the floor looking for Peter in hopes that the alpha leader could make things better. When he invariably failed to find his missing pack member he would return to Elizabeth looking defeated.

Seeing Elizabeth was awake Satchmo beat his tail harder against the bed in a rhythmic thumping. Reaching out Elizabeth stroked the dog's soft fur. Excited for the affection Satchmo wiggled closer and increased his enthusiastic wagging. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth forced herself to get out from under the covers and sit on the edge of the bed. Thrilled that chances of breakfast were getting better Satchmo jumped out of bed and paced in front of Elizabeth.

"Thank you, Satchmo, I don't think I would have even bothered to get out of bed today if it wasn't for you."

Showing an enthusiasm that Elizabeth doubted she'd ever be able to match Satchmo raced down the stairs. Following the Lab downstairs she let him out into the gray rainy day. Not caring about the rain the dog scampered out into the backyard. After getting a towel to dry him off when he came back inside Elizabeth found herself just staring out blankly at the slate gray sky. Feeling a rising anxiety she tried to focus on caring for Satchmo, she really hadn't been taking him out for walks as often as she should since that used to be a favorite activity for her to do with Peter. Calling the dog back inside after a few minutes she knelt down and toweled him off with great care. Going into the kitchen she decided to prepare the dog a breakfast fit for any human house guest. By the time she had finished cooking up the egg, chicken, vegetable and rice medley Satchmo was practically dancing in anticipation.

Once the meal was in his reach the dog wolfed it down in record speed. For all the care she had placed into the dish she doubted that Satchmo had actually tasted any of it, but that hadn't really been the point anyway. Cooking for the dog had gone a long way to distracting Elizabeth from the sickening feeling in her stomach, but once it was done she was at a loss again. She understood that she was going to have good and bad days, she just wasn't sure how to best handle the truly miserable ones. Getting her phone Elizabeth hit the redial from the previous evening.

"Good morning, Elizabeth." Asha answered. "How are you doing?"

"Not great." Elizabeth admitted.

"I figured that was the case." Asha said sympathetically. "Rainy days are always the worst. I was going to call you but I didn't know if you wanted some space. Have you had lunch yet?"

"Lunch? I…uh…I just got out of bed." Elizabeth looked around a little disoriented. "What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty."

"I have to do better than this." Elizabeth sighed.

"Don't worry about it. Do you want me to come over?"

"I'd like that."

"I'll be there soon."

"Thank you."

With a new purpose Elizabeth went back upstairs to shower and get ready for Asha's arrival. It was only about half an hour before the front door chimed. Asha was at the door with her hair far more curly than usual as the high humidity caused it to have a mind of its own. She had a bag from an organic cafe near Light for the Lost that she and Elizabeth frequented. Elizabeth gave Asha a quizzical expression at the sheer speed that she'd gotten food and gotten to the house.

"I was already at the restaurant when you called." Asha explained.

"Thank you so much for coming."

"Of course, that's what friends are for."

Trotting up to Asha Satchmo sniffed her over before wagging.

"Hello, Fuzzbutt." Asha greeted. "Are you enjoying tracking mud into the house today?"

Not sure what Asha was saying but pleased to be the center of attention Satchmo continued to wag. Elizabeth smiled warmly at Asha and Satchmo interacting, she wasn't sure if she was being silly or not but she figured if Satchmo approved of someone they must be a good person. Despite all her doubts and suspicions about Walker Elizabeth didn't know how she would be coping right now if he hadn't inadvertently introduced her to Asha. She had told Hughes about her thoughts on the Skiptracers, but now that a few days had past she had started doubting herself. Trusting the FBI to deal with any criminal activity Elizabeth turned her attention to her guest. Taking the food she had brought Elizabeth got real plates to put everything on and they sat at the dinning room table.

"You really do have a lovely home, Elizabeth." Asha noted looking around the combined kitchen dinning room.

"I'm thinking about selling it." Elizabeth admitted.

"Really?"

"I don't know. I go back and forth on it. On the one hand there are a lot of memories here, on the other hand…"

"There are a lot of memories here?" Asha finished knowingly.

Elizabeth nodded.

"My advice: don't make any major decisions on rainy days."

"Do you mean that literally or metaphorically?"

"Both." Asha smiled.

Despite feeling much better than when she got up this morning Elizabeth still jerked with a nervous startle when Asha's phone rang. Asha apologized and reached into her pocket to just silence the call. As soon as she cut off the call the phone rang again. Trying again only got the same results so this time she took the phone out to see who it was.

"I'm so sorry," Asha apologized again "it's the head office."

"You can take the call, I don't mind."

"Thank you, technically I should be at work right now." Asha said before answering the phone. "Hello? …Why do you ask? …No, I don't think that's appropriate."

Elizabeth watched Asha with growing concern. She couldn't understand the caller but she could hear the annoyed tone.

"I don't care." Asha responded firmly. "I highly suggest you let Mr. Walker deal with them on his own. I don't think he'd like you calling me like this. Good bye, Mr. Harris."

Asha hung up the phone but stared at it for a moment with her delicate brow knit in concern.

"Asha? Something wrong."

"Apparently earlier this morning an FBI Agent 'invited' Charles down to the Federal Building and no one has seen him since. One of the board members wanted your phone number, obviously I wasn't going to give it to him."

"I told them about the Skiptracers, but I didn't think anyone took me all that seriously."

"You're kidding right? Why wouldn't they take you seriously?

"I don't know. Maybe because even I'm not sure I'm reliable any more? I've been jumping at shadows ever since Peter disappeared."

"Sometimes those shadows really do hide something."

"I don't see ho…"

Elizabeth jumped again when there was a sudden knocking at the door. Satchmo perked up again but he didn't bark. Satchmo's reaction combined with the visitor knocking instead of using the door bell told Elizabeth that it was Mozzie. Mozzie had told her once that doorbells were dangerous because they could be traps or have finger print scanners on them. Without any real rhyme or reason Elizabeth's stomach suddenly twisted in a painful knot. Asha noticed her stricken look and reached across the table to take her hand.

"Do you want me to answer the door?" Asha asked. "I swear I'll kill whoever it is if they are from Light for the Lost with any FBI questions."

"No, thank you. I think I know who it is. It's okay."

Trying to convince herself that she meant her last words Elizabeth got up and went to the door. Mozzie could just let himself in since he had a key, but he always waited to be invited in if he knew she was home. Opening the door Elizabeth's already nervous stomach flipped over when she saw the antsy energy radiating off her friend. Mozzie stepped inside from the light rain without even bothering to dry off his glasses.

"Elizabeth…" Mozzie stopped cold when he spotted Asha in the archway to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Mozzie, this is Asha. I've told you about her."

"Yeah, right, I know." Mozzie shifted his weight. "I'd still rather talk to you alone."

"Mozzie, what's going on?"

"Please, Elizabeth, I really need to talk to you alone."

"I'll go." Asha said. "I need to get back to work anyway…assuming the organization isn't getting shut down."

"Asha…"

"It's okay, Elizabeth, call me later."

"I will."

Mozzie watched Asha warily as she left. Once she was gone Elizabeth turned to Mozzie with her heart pounded.

"I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to say it: Neal is alive."

Elizabeth had never really believed that a person could faint from receiving news of any kind, but she came close to it now. As elated as she was to hear that Neal had been found she couldn't help but instantly think of Peter. She knew that they couldn't know he was dead for sure or else it would be Hughes on her front step with a neatly folded flag and a somber announcement. Speechless and dizzy Elizabeth took a step back causing Mozzie to instantly reach out to make sure she didn't fall.

"Wh…where did they find him?"

"I don't know. Hughes told me next to nothing, but he sent me to take you to the hospital that they've taken Neal to. He said that they didn't know about Peter yet, but that they are on it at full force. Hughes was on his way to the hospital to talk to Neal when he called me."

"We need to go," Elizabeth said casting about for her keys "we need to go now."

"I'll take you. I think Hughes sent me specifically because he didn't want you driving in light of this news."

"You have a car?"

"I do now."

"Mozzie…."

"Don't worry I'll put it back where I found it later."

"You can drive my car."

Once in the car Elizabeth was glad that Hughes had sent Mozzie to take her to the hospital. The more time she had for the news to sink in the harder it was to focus on anything. The entire trip turned into a blur as her thoughts stumbled over one another. She desperately wanted to believe that if Neal had survived that Peter would be next to be found. At the same time she didn't think she could take the heartbreak if she let herself get to used to the idea that he was alive only to find out otherwise.

With her heart pounding in her throat Elizabeth let Mozzie take care of the details of finding their way to the CCU and getting through the security that had been placed around it. Once in the small CCU wing of the hospital Elizabeth couldn't help but notice how most of the lights had been turned off giving the place a dark and ominous feel. She was used to hospitals being brightly lit sterile looking environments, but this looked more like an asylum out of a horror movie.

Jones was standing guard outside of one the rooms at full attention. He nodded solemnly at Elizabeth and Mozzie as they approached but he didn't leave his post. The room had glass sliding doors that were covered by a thin curtain that was inside the room. Suddenly Hughes and a doctor in a white lab coat stepped out of the room. Hughes looked stressed and frustrated as he talked with the doctor.

"Doctor…"

"I understand your concern, Agent Hughes." The doctor interrupted Hughes knowing what he was going to say and not having time for it. "However, Mr. Caffrey is alert and oriented, and as such if he wants to refuse treatment that is 100% his right. If he loses consciousness then we can intervene, but outside of dehydration, malnutrition, and some lacerations he's actually in fairly stable condition."

"He's pacing like a madman," Hughes growled. "and dripping blood on the floor."

"Not a fatal amount." The doctor shrugged.

The doctor ended the conversation by stepping away from Hughes. Hughes was too used to being the one in charge to easily accept the doctor's attitude, but he also had other things to worry about right now. Spotting Mozzie and Elizabeth he waved them closer.

"Elizabeth," Hughes greeted in a practiced calm tone "Neal tells us that Peter is still alive and we are doing everything in our power to find him. You will know the second that I know, but for right now I think it would be best if you just stayed with Neal. Okay?"

Not even really in control of her own actions Elizabeth just nodded. It was almost like there was this white noise sound echoing in her head that was keeping her from truly understanding the world around her. Hearing that Peter was alive the last time Neal saw him made her heart light as a feather, learning that they still didn't know where he was yanked it back down to Earth again. Hughes reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze before he looked to Mozzie in a silent order that he keep track of her. Nodding Mozzie took his role seriously. Elizabeth knew he must be anxious to see Neal as was she but he did well to stay by her side.

Pulling the curtain aside revealed that the room beyond it was even darker than the hallway. The floor was a scattered mess of papers that had various faces, doors, symbols, room, and maps drawn on them in a frantic sketchy style along with messily scribbled notes. Not noticing his visitors at first Neal was pacing like an angry tiger in a cage, he alternated between dragging his hands compulsively through his hair and clutching his arms over his stomach as he paced the small space. Mad with mental energy but nearly dropping from physical exhaustion he was stuck in a loop of constant pointless motion. Suddenly dropping to his hands and knees he grabbed one of the numerous pencils off he floor and after flipping over a page to get a space he started to draw a man's face with an aggressive snarl.

"Neal?" Mozzie said carefully.

Breaking his pencil point as he jerked back at the sound of his name Neal looked around for the source with a wild feral look in his eyes. Spotting Elizabeth and Mozzie his battered face light up in recognition and excitement. He mouthed both their names with just the faintest of sound to go along with the motion. Jumping up to his feet he immediately collapsed to his knees again. He wasn't dripping blood the way Hughes had complained but the front of the white scrubs they had given him were stained down the front of his chest with crimson and he was heaving for breath.

Mozzie and Elizabeth both quickly stepped forward when he fell. Mozzie helped him up and Neal threw his arms around him in a warm hug before releasing him and drawing Elizabeth into a comforting embrace. The dark room and the large scrubs had hid some of his weight lost but when Elizabeth put her arms around him she could suddenly feel just how much mass he'd lost off his already slight frame. Neal's muscles were almost vibrating as he forced his body against its limits.

"Neal, it's so good to see you alive," Mozzie said in concern "but maybe you should sit down."

Taking a staggering step back away from Elizabeth Neal shook his head vehemently. Worried that he was about to lose his balance Elizabeth reached out and put her hands on his waist. Neal put his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, but not to steady himself. Gently squeezing her shoulders he stared at her pleadingly.

"I don't know what happened, Neal, but I know you didn't abandon my husband."

Having her understanding Neal visibly relaxed. He closed his eyes briefly as a stray tear traced down his cheek. Elizabeth found herself in tears as well not only over the state Neal was in but knowing that Peter probably hadn't fared any better. Mozzie looked around at the papers strewn all over the floor and instantly honed in on one that had a hexagon with a maze scribbled on it in heavy lines. Bending down he picked it up having recognized it from the card Hughes had shown him.

"Neal, what is this?" Mozzie asked despite Neal's obvious voicelessness. "I've been looking everywhere trying to figure it out."

With a bitter vacant glare Neal reached up and pulled down on the v-neck collar of his scrubs. Elizabeth gasped sharply at the sight of the symbol branded into Neal's chest. After two months the deep wound had healed into a brilliant white scar with red margins but it still looked painful. Elizabeth's mind raced for a reason behind why anyone would mark Neal like that but all she came up with was sheer cruelty. Everything about Neal's state from his physical decline to his agitated demeanor spoke of months spent not just trapped but actively tormented. With her imagination running wild Elizabeth's stomach churned.

Seeing how much seeing the brand had upset her Neal reached out and gently pushed Mozzie away. Neal looked to the door before looking back to Mozzie apologetically. Understanding Mozzie nodded and made the excuse that he was going to step out and get them some water. With Mozzie gone Neal guided Elizabeth a few steps over to the small couch up against the back wall. Finally sitting down himself Neal pulled Elizabeth down to sit next to him before wrapping his arms around her. Unable to handle the stress of not knowing if Peter was coming back Elizabeth broke down into a bitter weeping. Holding her against his branded chest Neal settled his chin over her head and allowed her to release her emotions without judgement.

Finding herself more miserable than ever before Elizabeth just wanted this moment over with. As devastating as it would be to be told they hadn't gotten to Peter in time right now all she wanted was an answer. The helpless waiting in uncertainly had reached an unbearable level. Keeping his arms around her Neal rocked slightly, it was a tiny gesture of attempting to offer some comfort but Elizabeth deeply appreciated it. She knew Neal was in pain right now as well and that she was just a powerless to help him as he was to help her, and yet somehow that shared dilemma helped them both through. Knowing it would upset Peter to know how distraught she was Elizabeth forced herself to calm for his sake. Neal squeezed her tighter for a moment and kissed the top of her head in a show of admiration for her bravery. Elizabeth nuzzled against his chest in a thank you feeling that if he didn't need to use his voice to connect with her that she didn't need to use hers.

With a shared misery that only they truly empathized with Neal and Elizabeth waited together. Elizabeth had no idea how long they sat together, if she had been told it had been days she would have believed it. She was reaching a point where she was afraid that she might be physically sick when Neal gave her a gentle nudge. With her blood turned to ice Elizabeth looked up as Hughes entered the room. With her breath held Elizabeth sat up as Hughes walked over at a brisk pace. A wave of relief crashed against her when Hughes smiled.

"Peter would like to talk to you." Hughes said simply as he offered her a small radio.

Still in shock Elizabeth's hand trembled as she took the radio in a daze. She could feel Neal relaxing behind her as he heard the news but she couldn't look back at him as her eyes were fixed on the radio. Hughes looked to Neal before offering him a respectful nod of thanks. Giving the pair some privacy Hughes was gone just as quickly as he'd come, still having work ahead of him but now with a clear goal head. The whole moment was so surreal that it didn't even really hit home for Elizabeth until the radio in her hand came to life with a distinct baritone.

"H…Hon?"

"Peter…" Elizabeth replied in a voice weak from relief.

"Elizabeth," Peter breathed with a heavy amount of relief himself "you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice."

"I…I think I have some idea." Elizabeth replied with a tearful chuckle. "I never…I didn't…Peter…"

"I know, I know." Peter assured when she couldn't complete her thought. "I am so sorry for everything I've put you through."

"It's not your fault. Just come home."

"Very soon. I'm in good hands right now, the SWAT team isn't going to let anything happen to me. Everything is under control. I love you."

"I love you too." Elizabeth smiled through her joyful tears still hardly able to believe that her husband was basically back from the dead.

"Is Neal with you?"

"He is." Elizabeth nodded. "He's lost his voice completely."

"Neal can't speak? That I have to see."

"Yes you do."

"…I have to go." Peter said reluctantly starting to sound out of breath. "I love you."

"I love you too." Elizabeth repeated.

Elizabeth was shivering by the time the all to brief conversation was over but she had never felt so good. Over joyed to the point where she was questioning if all of this was really happening Elizabeth finally turned to look at Neal. With proof of Peter being found by the SWAT team Neal had finally given into his exhaustion. Still sitting up with his head back Neal snored quietly. Elizabeth called for Jones to come in and he quickly assessed the situation and lifted Neal up off the couch and carried him over to the hospital bed. Jones smiled at Elizabeth and gave her a warm hug before he went looking for the doctor. Pulling a blanket over Neal Elizabeth leaned over and kissed Neal's forehead.

"Thank you."


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter Sixty-three

"Neal can't speak? That I have to see."

"Yes you do." Elizabeth chuckled.

Peter smiled at Elizabeth's ability to joke with him despite the situation. He had always known she was strong but it still lifted his heart to witness it. Hearing her voice had completely distracted him from his surroundings as well as melted away the pain and stress of the past two months. Soothed by being back in contact with her Peter was yanked violently back into reality by the echoing sound of distant gun fire. Startled Peter automatically jerked more upright as he twisted to look over his shoulder towards the source of the noise. Peter's eyes widened in shock as the motion brought with it an ominous multipoint cracking accompanied by an explosion of lancing pain through his side into his chest.

Realizing instantly what he had just done Peter had a blind moment of panic before he turned back to the radio that the SWAT leader was still helping him hold. Liam hadn't been disturbed by the gunfire, he trusted his team to handle whatever resistance they had come across in the Labyrinth. Swallowing the blood that had jumped to the back of his throat Peter took as deep a breath as he could manage before pressing the contact on the radio again.

"…I have to go." Peter said trying to sound calm. "I love you."

"I love you too." Elizabeth replied tearfully.

Still trying to process what was happening and frightening ramifications Peter released the radio. Liam pulled his arm back through the gap and put the radio in his pocket. Peering through the space Liam smiled at Peter with his eyes bright with barely contained tears that suddenly dripped down his cheeks.

"It was a privilege to be able to share that moment with you, Agent Burke." Liam said seriously before flashing Peter a mock chagrined expression. "Please don't tell the guys I cried, I'll never hear the end of it."

In the background Peter could hear his two partners teasing him with obvious emotion in their own voices. Still sitting back on his heels Peter found himself paralyzed as a terrifying heat spread across his chest from the injury site as the ribs he had just shifted filled his already congested lung with blood. Fearful that he had just made a fatal mistake all he could think about was the fact that he was about to break his promise to Elizabeth. Suddenly wishing he hadn't been so cruel as to give her hope of his return by speaking to her Peter stared at Liam pleadingly. Liam instantly lost his light hearted smile and switched back into his no nonsense persona.

"Agent?" Liam asked concerned. "Are you okay? Peter, talk to me."

Trying to tell Liam what was wrong Peter parted his lips causing blood to spill down his chin. Liam's eyes widened at the sight and he lurched forward to try to get to his patient but was stopped by the stone.

"Jake!" Liam barked. "Don't let him fall!"

Peter had completely forgotten about Jake in the wake of talking to Elizabeth and realizing that he may not live long enough to see her. Starting to settle into shock Peter hadn't even noticed that he was starting to fall back. Jake acted quickly and knelt behind Peter to catch him. Laying back against Jake's chest Peter took a few shallow gulping breaths each one of which set off a flare of agony every time he tried to draw in breath. He could feel a section of his ribs fall when he breathed in and rise when he breathed out, the exact opposite of what it should be doing. The paradoxical motion caused a disturbing appearance of something pulsing under his skin trying to burst out.

"Wha…what's happening?" Jake asked shaken. "Why is his chest doing that?"

"I've got a flail chest." Liam informed his partners in a calm monotone. "Go get the jack."

"Copy." The other agents chimed.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jake fretted. "I…I can't go back if he die…"

"He's going to be fine," Liam interrupted "what he needs from you is to keep calm. Can you do that?"

Peter winced as Jake nodding jostled him slightly. Peter wanted to believe Liam, but his trained ear picked up on the flat monotone in his voice that indicated a 'professional lie'. Liam was telling them both what they needed to hear, the only problem was Peter was too used to using that particular voice himself. Peter didn't know the term 'flail chest', but he guessed it meant that part of his rib cage had broken off and now the razor sharp broken bone was acting like a knife with each breath. Drooling more blood Peter coughed sending him into an agonizing spasm. With shock becoming a real danger Peter fought to stay calm.

Knowing time was running out Liam tore off his flak jacket and his utility belt in hopes of cutting down his size enough to get through the opening. In an act of desperation Liam wedged himself in between the stone. For all of his efforts the laws of physics still had to be obeyed and he was unable to get through. Getting on his radio he asked for a situation report from the other team to get an idea of when they would be there to help. The team that had located the elevator but their path through the Labyrinth was being significantly slowed by the chaos of the men who were in the tunnels without brands. The collection of violent criminals and those in debt to York were not looking to be rescued and subduing them was going to take time as some scattered like rats and others fought like cornered dogs.

With his breathing becoming increasingly rapid and shallow Peter stared up a the stone ceiling as the edges of his vision started to go red. The two men from Liam's team that had raced back down the tunnel returned with a heavy manual jack. They had used to help get through the second mound of rocks that had gotten in Neal's way. They had left the large awkward device behind because originally they had been ordered not to try and move the stone in the collapsed stairwell. Their mission had been to locate Peter, and give the team on the surface a GPS starting point to use Neal's map of the Labyrinth itself to help locate the elevator.

With Peter's condition deteriorating quickly Liam was changing the plan. The jack wasn't designed to handle the kind of weight that they were trying to move and disturbing the collapsed stairwell could have deadly consequences for them all, but the other two SWAT members didn't even bring up the danger as they wedged the jack in place. It took all three men to force the stone open just an extra two inches which caused a fine dust to rain down on them.

"You're going to kill us all." Jake warned.

"Enough," Liam told the others "I think I've got it."

Cramming himself back into the space below the jack Liam kicked and struggled to get himself through. The other two team members did their best to help but being larger than Liam they would not be able to follow him. Managing to get halfway through Liam was able to push against the stone and after a bit of effort he tumbled through. Turning back around Liam grabbed his disassembled medical kit that the others passed though. Kneeling in front of Peter and Jake Liam reached out with a practiced hand and very gently inspected the injury.

"No stove-in, two possibly three rib involvement." Liam announced more to himself than anyone else. "That's very good."

Once again Peter didn't know what medical term 'stove in' meant but he could see the relief on Liam's face so he assumed that whatever it was it was probably a fatal complication. Liam rummaged through his disorganized supplies until he came across another needle pen that his sank into Peter's thigh. Peter expected another jolt from the drug, but instead it stole a small measure of his pain. With more blood rising into his mouth Peter did his best to spit it out.

"He's not going to make it." Jake whispered anxiously.

"Jake, please, be quiet." Liam said firmly. "Carefully lay him down and back away."

Despite the small dose of morphine Peter couldn't help the sharp cry of pain that escaped his bloodied lips as Jake moved him. Once he was down Liam acted quickly and straddled Peter without actually putting any weight on him. Resting his palm against Peter's ribs to prevent them from expanding out too far Liam carded his free hand into Peter's sweat drenched hair and leaned over slightly to make direct eye contact with him. Peter looked up at Liam trying but ultimately failing to keep the fear out of his dark eyes.

"Peter, we are going to get through this by working together." Liam assured softly. "What I need from you is absolute trust."

Peter responded by relaxing the panicked look in his eyes to match the confidence in Liam's expression.

"Thank you." Liam nodded. "When I press on your ribs I need you to relax completely, I'm going to breathe for you with a vent bag. It's going to be painful and claustrophobic but it's going to get you home to your wife. Understood?"

Peter nodded slightly. Liam picked up the device he had warned Peter about which had a small mask that fit over the nose and mouth attached to a large pliable blue plastic bulb. Even just having Liam secure the mask over his face caused Peter's already laboring heart to pound harder.

"Here we go."

Liam pressed against Peter's ribs to both hold them in place and to cue him to relax. Holding the mask firmly against Peter's face Liam crushed the blue bulb to force air into Peter's lungs. Taking a breath meant pulling down on the diaphragm and creating negative pressure in the lungs that with a flail chest could quickly lead to life threatening lacerations to the lung. By forcing air down rather than having Peter draw it himself in it kept the pressure positive and prevented his lungs from pulling on his broken ribs. However allowing someone to breathe for you was far more difficult than Peter expected. The forced ventilation went against all his instincts and he couldn't help but thrashed to prevent it.

"No, don't fight. Please don't fight. Try again."

Liam pressed against Peter's ribs again and repeated the oddly smothering ventilation. Just like before Peter failed to surrender control and automatically fought back. Frustrated with himself Peter ground his teeth together which only added to his tension. Backed into the corner Jake was staring at the blood spattered mask with an anxious expression knowing that without Peter he wasn't likely to been shown any leniency when his own role in the Agent's death was revealed.

"Peter focus. Think about Elizabeth, you promised her you were coming home and that isn't going to happen if you don't do this." Liam said honestly. "I know you can do this, I know you're not going to break that promise."

Pausing briefly Liam gave Peter a moment to collect himself. Echoing Elizabeth's last words to him in his mind Peter use the emotion it gave him to relax. Liam could feel Peter surrendering under him and pressed his palm into Peter's ribs. Closing his eyes Peter successfully allowed Liam to manually fill his congested lungs. Liam gave him a word of encouragement before instructing him to just naturally allow the air to escape before starting the next cycle. Even though he was getting plenty of air the slow pace and unnatural feel of each breath felt like he was suffocating. Every time his instincts would try to notch up his panic Peter turned back to the memory of Elizabeth telling him she loved him. If he wanted to see her again he had to passively endure the torturous medical treatment until help arrived.

Peter wasn't sure how long they spent on the floor breathing together, it felt like hours but realistically it had probably only been ten minutes. As he got used to the manual ventilation Peter could feel that Liam was breathing in time with him to help keep the rhythm steady. Breathing in unison the rest of the world fell away as both men focused solely on the next breath. The longer Liam helped keep Peter's ribs stable the more the pain slipped away. Peter didn't fully understand the mechanism behind pain but a great deal of it was based on how safe the victim felt. Having placed his life fully in Liam's hands Peter believed he was going to get him through and it pulled him back from the edge of shock that he had been teetering on.

"Peter?" Liam said gently.

Opening his eyes Peter looked up at Liam.

"The other team is here, but I'm not going anywhere." Liam informed Peter. "They are going to get you on a board and I'm going to come along for the ride and keep you breathing. Until we get to the hospital you and I are partners."

Peter smiled under the mask and nodded slightly. Growling in renewed pain as they got him onto the stretcher it took him and Liam a moment to get back in sync. Liam paused the ventilation when they got to the corpses that guarded the door but Peter still choked on the awful scent of death and further spattered the inside of the mask with blood. By the time they got to the elevator Peter was exhausted despite being carried there. He knew that if it wasn't for the atropine still stimulating his system he would have passed out long ago, but the drug wasn't allowing him to rest. Even though it was taking him to freedom the ride up turned Peter's stomach due to the fact that he had associated it with being taken to fight for so long. Even in the mists of being rescued it was hard to truly believe he wasn't going back to the ring.

The ride up didn't take as long as he had thought it should and once they brought him off he couldn't help but try to look around a little. The elevator had lead them up into another abandoned subway line not directly to the surface. Peter's attention was jolted back to his condition when Liam suddenly mixed up the careful timing that they had been sustaining. Becoming momentarily over ventilated Peter arched back and fought to pull away from the mask again. He could hear shouting which added to his disorientation. In the general confusion that followed Peter could hear someone shouting Jake's name in alarm. Trying to figure what was happening Peter tried to sit up only to be pinned back down by Liam.

"I'm sorry, Peter." Liam apologized. "Eyes on me. Focus."

"…Jake?" Peter asked muffled by the mask.

"Don't worry about Jake right now." Liam said evasively. "Your only job is getting out of here alive."

Peter couldn't help but worry about Jake but he was losing the energy to fight. Following Liam's lead Peter concentrated on himself. He had been doing well with allowing things to take their time up until now, but now all he wanted was for this nightmare to be over. With a growing sense of dread that he wasn't going to make the last few feet of the marathon tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he stared up a the grimy subway ceiling. Keeping perfect rhythm with the vent bag but releasing his hold on Peter's ribs Liam reached up and carded his hand into Peter's hair.

"It's almost over, just stay strong a little longer." Liam said gently. "Elizabeth is still waiting for you to keep your promise."

Peter appreciated Liam's sentiment and he nodded slightly to show he wasn't giving up just yet. Starting to lapse in and out of consciousness it became harder to figure out what was going on around him. He could hear Liam telling him something but he wasn't sure what it was. Suddenly opening or closing his eyes didn't change his view as his vision was completely dark either way. He didn't understand at first until he felt the heat of the sun striking his face and the cool breeze against his skin. Although blindfolded to keep the daylight from hurting his eyes Peter still enjoyed the sensation of being out from underground. The scent of the rain from earlier filled his senses as Liam pushed the outside air over his face. Relief washed over Peter as the sound of the city echoed around him, he hadn't even realized how quiet things had been in the Labyrinth until he could hear the sounds of life again.

"Look at that smile." Liam chuckled. "Feels good to be out, eh?"

Peter reached up and squeezed Liam's arm to assure him that he had never felt better. Quickly loaded into an ambulance Liam kept his word by staying on vent duty despite the fatigue that had to be setting in. On route to the hospital the EMTs were able to add high oxygen to the bottom of the vent bag flooding Peter's system and battling his hypoxia. Fluids and better pain medication helped to further stabilize him en route. Liam's quick work had prevented Peter's broken ribs from shredding lungs. He would need surgery to stabilize the broken bones but they had avoided any catastrophic damage. At least that's what Liam was telling him along the way.

"Peter!"

Having briefly passed out Peter was pulled back into the waking world by Elizabeth's call. The sharp antiseptic scent to the air that filled his lungs told him he had made it to the hospital. Up on the gurney straddling him Liam kept Peter breathing. Still blind Peter reached out in the direction he'd heard his wife's voice come from. When he felt Elizabeth's delicate hand in his own he carefully wrapped his fingers around her's. Peter smiled warmly as Elizabeth brought his hand up and pressed it to her tear stained cheek. Finally reunited Peter felt like he had the strength to just sit up and embrace her, but he knew that was the endorphins talking. Elizabeth kissed the back of Peter's hand and told him she loved him before relinquishing it so they could take Peter back into surgery. Before they could transfer him onto the operating table Peter reached up and put his palm against Liam's heart.

"The honor was all mine, Agent Burke. Welcome home."


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hugs! Thank you all for the wonderful support during these 'rescue' chapters!

Chapter Sixty-four

Sleeping fitfully Neal fought against what was quickly becoming a reoccurring theme every time he closed his eyes. Trapped under the stone in the black icy water Neal swam as best he could with his injured left shoulder that didn't want to cooperate with his commands. During his actual swim he'd had a faint glow to fixate on and although his lungs had been burning like acid by the time he reached the surface at least he'd had a goal and direction. In the murky world of his subconscious he had no such guide. Spending more time looking for an exit than he would have survived in the real world Neal's panic escalated.

Lost in the darkness Neal struggled to move like he was submerged in syrup instead of water. Not actually starving for air and with the distortion of time in his dream he felt like it had been an hour since his last breath. The impossible situation didn't help Neal recognize that he was in a nightmare, it just made his search for the surface more frenetic. Suddenly breaking through an unseen barrier into a dimly lit natural cavern Neal clawed at the edge of the stone shore only to have it break under his weight like an ice shelf.

Eventually hauling himself half way out of the midnight water Neal cried out when something clamped down on his ankle. Kicking wildly did nothing to deter his unseen assailant that was pulling him back. Digging his nails into the stone as best he could Neal momentarily slowed his decent only to then have his attacker lunge up out of the pool and wrap his arms around his waist. The unseen man beared his full weight down on Neal's back pinning him to the wet floor with a crushing force.

"Help me!" Neal cried desperately. "Someone, please! Help!"

"No one can hear you." Jake breathed in Neal's ear. "You didn't really think I'd ever let you go, did you?"

Filling his lungs Neal screamed as loud as he was capable in an animalistic wail. When he'd found himself trapped just below the abandoned subway tunnel he had spent hours baying for help until his voice was in tatters. Now before he could draw another breath to repeat his cry even once Jake tangled his hand into Neal's hair and yanked him back into the depths.

The shock of splashing back into the pool was enough to jolt Neal awake. Sitting bolt upright in the hospital bed drenched in a cold sweat Neal looked wildly around the unfamiliar dark room with his heart in his throat. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye Neal jerked away from it and tried to scramble off the far side of the bed only to be stopped by the rail. Unable to flee and too weak to fight Neal froze in hopes of just being left alone.

"Neal, its okay," Mozzie said gently "it's just me, it's Mozzie. You're safe."

Turning to look at Mozzie Neal's memory started to catch up with him. Mentally accepting he was safe didn't stop his treasonous body from still being in full fight or flight mode as adrenaline continued to course through his blood. Hiding his face in his hands for a moment he took a few calming breaths before focusing on his visitor. Neal did his best to show Mozzie that he was okay but the concerned look on his friend's face told him that he was failing miserably.

"Maybe I should go get the doctor."

"No!" Neal squawked in a hoarse whisper. "No, no strangers right now…please."

"Okay." Mozzie agreed as he carefully stepped up to the edge of the bed. "It's good to hear your voice."

"Peter?" Neal whispered anxiously.

"He's okay. They found him." Mozzie assured. "He got out of surgery about ten minutes ago, we were told that it went well. Elizabeth is down with him in recovery. They will bring him up here soon."

"Surgery?"

"Two of Peter's ribs broke off and needed to be plated back into place to keep them from cutting up his lungs. Elizabeth got to see him briefly in the ER, apparently he had a SWAT guy sitting on his stomach keeping him breathing with a vent bag. They assured us that he'd make it through surgery but we knew they'd never tell a frantic wife the truth. It was a long three hour wait that at first they told us would only be one or two at the most. I don't think he had a minute left to spare on that rescue."

Hearing how close he had come to being the sole survivor didn't make Neal feel any better as his nervous stomach soured further. His distress must have been outwardly obvious because Mozzie suddenly looked apologetic. Neal hated Mozzie looking at him with such pity but he didn't have the strength to hide any of his emotions at the moment.

"The important thing is that you and Peter are both safe." Mozzie said quickly.

"Jake?" Neal asked simply.

"Jake? I'm sorry, I don't know who that is."

Neal pointed over to the piles of his drawings that Mozzie had organized. Walking over to the four different stacks Mozzie picked up the set that held drawings of faces. Neal took the papers with a shaky hand and leafed through them until he found the one he'd done of Jake. Looking at the drawing Neal noticed how he drawn Jake's expression far more aggressive than he'd meant to. Neal had wanted the FBI to know about him in hopes that he was still standing guard over Peter, but it had been hard to answer when Hughes asked if he was a friend or foe. When Hughes had pressed him again Neal had scrawled 'ally' under Jake's portrait along with a hasty sketch of his brand mark. Neal gave the drawing to Mozzie.

"I don't recognize him." Mozzie said. "But there has been a lot of confusion around here. Between staying here with Elizabeth and you I haven't exactly been 'in the loop' with the Suits outside."

Despite Mozzie's explanation being a perfectly valid one Neal furrowed his brow in concern at there being no news about Jake. As unstable as he was there was a hundred things that could have gone wrong including him attacking the SWAT team. Jake had been underground for so long that despite his desire to see the sky he might have panicked at the thought of rescue. Not only did he have an odd brand of institutionalization he had killed men in the past and the FBI would represent a threat to his freedom once out. As much as he hated to think it of himself Neal wasn't sure how upset he'd be if he found that Jake had been killed, particularly if he learned that he had abandoned Peter.

"…I really didn't think I was ever going to see you again, Neal."

Pulled out of his dark thoughts about Jake by the stress in Mozzie voice Neal suddenly realized how hard all of this must have been on Mozzie. Mozzie had a lot of connection and acquaintances but when it came to actual friends that he trusted and depended on that number took a sharp dive. Ashamed he hadn't thought of it before Neal reached out and pulled Mozzie into a warm embraced. Although not usually into physical signs of affection Mozzie gratefully accepted the contact. When Neal released him Mozzie looked around as if to make sure no one had seen the moment of weakness.

"I'm glad you're safe." Mozzie smiled. "…and the Suit too, for Elizabeth's sake of course."

Neal chuckled however he ended up triggering his gag reflex and started dry heaving. Not wanting to alert the medical staff outside he did his best to keep quiet. Looking alarmed Mozzie went to go get help but Neal reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Neal, please, let me go get the doctor."

"No." Neal panted. "Peter first, then I'll deal with doctors."

"Neal..." Mozzie hesitated to continue.

Neal looked to Mozzie anxiously when he didn't finish his thought.

"Neal, you can't let Peter see you like this."

Sighing heavily Neal released his hold on Mozzie's arm. He knew he was right. Peter had barely survived physically and Neal didn't want to stress him further by showing how poorly he was doing emotionally. He had hoped that once Peter was found that he'd feel better, but now he decided that he would need to see Peter again before any of his fears were eased. Trying to quell his rebelling stomach Neal pulled his shoulders back to try and help look like he was more together than he felt. After taking a deep breath Neal painted on a brave smile before looking to Mozzie for approval of his conning skills.

"Oh…I…uh…" Mozzie shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I meant you can't let him see you covered in blood."

Furrowing his brow at the misunderstanding Neal looked down at the dried stain running down the front of his scrubs and the cracking streaks of blood and grime staining his arms. He vaguely recalled someone trying to wash some of it off with a wet cloth and he was horrified to have a choppy memory of lashing out at the man physically. Hoping he hadn't hurt anyone Neal's blood turned to ice at the thought of actually getting into a shower. Mozzie had a point though and it had to be done for his own hygiene and to keep Peter from stressing about his continued hydrophobia.

Telling himself it would be different in an actual shower Neal nodded. He grabbed the bed rail that kept him from easily getting up and shook it slightly. He couldn't reach the mechanism that would lower it, but luckily Mozzie took the hint and lowered the rail. Neal knew he should have just asked but despite having his voice at least functionally back he found he was a little hesitant to use it. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed Neal had to pause for a moment to let his dizziness to clear.

For the first time Neal noticed the IV in the back of his hand dripping fluids into his blood. He reasoned that the staff wouldn't be happy about him getting up in the first place so there was no harm in adding his list of crimes by ripping it out so that he could walk to the bathroom. Mozzie gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything. Waiting to feel like he would be safe on his feet Neal looked at the tray table next to the bed and spotted a bottle of vanilla flavored protein drink sitting on it.

"The doctor wanted you to drink that when you woke up." Mozzie said. "Maybe you should do that first."

Neal shook his head and forced himself to his feet. Mozzie stayed close clearly doubtful that Neal was going to remain standing. He was still lightheaded, but he had gone into the ring and fought feeling worse than this so he ignored the slight pitching feeling of the floor. Worried that Mozzie was going to want to follow him into the bathroom to make sure he didn't fall Neal tugged on his blood stained shirt in a silent request that Mozzie go find him a clean set of scrubs.

"Fine, I'll go," Mozzie said once again understanding "but the nurses are going to be so pissed if you fall."

Neal just shrugged. He had no interest in an audience at the moment and if he fell he would deal with it then. After surviving two months of being tortured in the Labyrinth he doubted that anything life threatening could happen to him on his journey to the shower and back. Mozzie still hesitated to leave. Neal gave him a pleading look needing to get this shower over with before he had too much time to think about it.

"If I give you some privacy will you at least drink this?" Mozzie picked up the bottle. "Seriously, Neal, it's bad enough that you won't let the doctors treat you, you at least have to eat something."

Neal nodded and took the bottle with a forced smile. Giving in for now Mozzie left to sneak some scrubs without alerting the staff to the clandestine shower in progress. Once Mozzie was gone Neal walked over to the counter against the wall that had a small sink for staff to wash their hands in. Cracking open the bottle of protein shake Neal wrinkled his nose in revulsion as he dumped it down the sink. Running the water to cover his tracks and wash the residual down the drain Neal returned the empty bottle to the tray table to make it look like he'd kept his promise.

Trying not to think about the fact that he'd been rescued for less than twenty-four hours and he was already back to conning Neal made his way into the small bathroom. Without even thinking about it Neal automatically reached over and flicked on the light switch. Yelping in pain he shut his eyes and quickly shut the light back off. He had thought they had been going a little overboard with how dark they were keeping his room but the harsh light had resulted in a searing pain. The Labyrinth hadn't been devoid of light but apparently in comparison to modern lighting it had been dark enough to weaken the muscles that controlled his irises considerably. The light blue color of his eyes didn't help the situation any leaving him with one less layer of protection from the high energy light.

Opening his eyes Neal found himself completely blinded. It took a few minutes for his bleached visual purple to begin restoring his sensitive night vision. Finding himself facing a mirror that only showed him a shadowy figure at first Neal jerked back thinking that someone else was in the room with him. Neal swore at himself for still being so easily frightened as his heart hammered against his ribs. Looking at himself in the mirror more closely Neal didn't have the difficulty recognizing himself that he felt he should have. He had been living with the thinner features and battered appearance for so long that he was having more trouble remembering what he'd looked like before this all started. His hair was matted and unruly but due to the poor nutrition it really hadn't grown all that much.

Rubbing the back of his hand against his bruised jawline Neal managed a slight smile at the fact that he only had about two days worth of stubble marking his skin. Peter had insisted from the very start that they do everything in their power to stay clean in an effort to preserve their health for as long as possible. As a result even near the end when Neal had started having trouble showering he had still used the electric razor they had been provided to try and keep up appearances. Neal doubted he would have bothered with such details if he had been on his own, but Peter's by the book attitude had helped them survive.

Running his tongue over his teeth and finding them fuzzy Neal hunted out the hospital supplied toothbrush and paste. He really did need to clean his teeth, but he also knew that he was stalling to avoid the real issue of his filthy skin. Finishing with his teeth he didn't have any excuses left and he turned the small stall shower on. The sound of the running water striking the shower floor was enough to chill his blood and send his stomach back into a fit of dry heaves. Forcing himself back under control Neal stared at the running water defiantly. Angry at himself for finding this more difficult that jumping into the pool Neal took a deep shuddering breath. Completely forgetting to bother with taking his clothes off Neal weld his eyes shut and steeled up the courage to step under the spray. Instantly heaving for breath and shivering despite the hot water Neal opened his eyes and stared down at the blood that was swirling down the drain. Even though his new instincts were telling him to leave he was determined to stand under the spray until the water ran clear.

"You can't let Peter see you like this…"


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter Sixty-five

Coming up out of anesthesia Peter fluttered his eyes open and stared up at the white title ceiling that had a plastic panel set in it with the light behind it switched off. Taking an experimental breath he could feel a rush of cold antiseptic smelling air from the nasal cannula that was pumping pure oxygen into his nose. Although not completely sure what was going on not seeing stained concrete was all he cared about right now. With morphine blocking his pain and clouding his thoughts Peter closed his eyes and enjoyed the relatively soft mattress he was laying on. He'd been sleeping on stone for so long he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be comfortable. When he felt someone squeezing his hand he opened his eyes again and turned to look to his side. Seeing Elizabeth sitting at his bedside he smiled brightly.

"Elizabeth." Peter purred. "I missed you."

"I…I missed you too, Hon." Elizabeth replied with voice oscillating between laughter and tears. "I keep worrying this is just a beautiful dream."

Having that exact same fear in the back of his mind Peter reached out to touch her face to cement the idea for them both that this was all real. The drugs in his system made him clumsy but Elizabeth took his hand and pressed it against her cheek for him. Joyful tears slipped down Peter's face at the feel of her warm soft skin. For as many dreams as Peter had had about Elizabeth over the past two months the one aspect in them that was always missing was her warmth.

Unable to keep from tears herself Elizabeth got to her feet so that she could carefully lean over Peter. Carding his hand into her hair Peter pulled her in the last few inches into a passionate kiss. Being able to touch her again was almost more than his heart could take as it brought along with it not only a reminder of how much he loved her but also a sharp reminder of how painful it had been to be separated. However in the end the exhilaration of the present won out over the darkness of the past. He didn't want to release her from the amorous kiss but it didn't take much to render them both breathless. Not wanting to stand over him Elizabeth sat back down to bring them both back to eye level. Panting heavily but never having felt more content Peter stared at Elizabeth, enjoying the way she made his heart race.

"Marry me." Peter said suddenly.

"Peter," Elizabeth chuckled with a warm blush "I've already married you…twice."

"Third times the charm."

"I did promise to marry you as many times as you asked." Elizabeth smiled as tears brightened her eyes again.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Peter's already bright smile widened at her answer as if it was the first time she'd accepted his proposal. Elizabeth's expression lit up as well as she suddenly remembered something. Bringing her hand up she revealed that she was wearing his wedding band on her thumb after the staff had given it to her for safe keeping while Peter was in surgery. Peter lifted up his shaky left hand and offered it to her. Holding his hand steady Elizabeth slipped the ring back on his finger before stealing another kiss.

Looking at the well worn band Peter spun the ring around a few times finding peace in the golden symbol of their love. The fact that York hadn't taken the ring away from him had told Peter a lot about his captor. York had stripped him of his gun and badge thinking that those were the items that defined him, but he had completely missed the object that meant the most to him because he wasn't capable of understanding a deep connection to another person. It was classic psychopath thinking. There was a good chance that in the real world York was someone considered respectable, possibly even a CEO of some sort since researched showed that approximately one in five CEOs were diagnosable psychopaths. In any case he was certainly wealthy and as much as he hated to admit that always complicated a court case.

"Peter?" Elizabeth asked concerned.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"No, you just looked so pensive."

"I'm okay." Peter assured. "How is Neal?"

"He passed out as soon as he heard you over the radio." Elizabeth smiled sadly. "He pushed himself so hard. He's refused to let any of the doctors so much as look at him until he knows your safe. He was still sleeping when I came down here, Mozzie is watching over him."

"I need to see him." Peter leaned forward as if he was going to get up but a jab of pain in his ribs broke through his morphine haze. "Where is he?"

"He's in the CCU, they were going to bring you up there as soon as you recovered from the anesthesia."

"I'm recovered." Peter insisted as he raised the head of the bed up with the buttons on the rail to help him up.

"Knock, knock." Came a deep voice from the other side of the curtain that Peter hadn't even noticed was boxing him in.

The man attached to the voice let himself in through the curtain. The white coated doctor had clearly been standing on the far side of the curtain for a at least the past few minutes waiting for a good time to interrupt the reunited couple. Even seeing that the man was a medical profession Peter still tensed at the sight of the stranger and without even realizing he was doing it he put his hand out protectively in front of Elizabeth.

"It's okay, Peter." Elizabeth assured. "This is the surgeon."

"Sorry, it's hard to knock on sheets." The surgeon joked. "I'm Dr. Halberg. How are you feeling, Agent Burke?"

"I'm fine." Peter said dismissively. "Please, I need to see Neal."

"Understandable." The doctor nodded. "I need to listen to your lungs real quick before we take you anywhere. May I?"

Peter nodded appreciating the doctor asking permission rather than just touching him unannounced. Despite having agreed to the exam Peter still tensed further in discomfort when he pressed his stethoscope against his chest. Even through the hospital gown he was wearing the device was icy cold and Peter had had more than enough of being cold for one lifetime. Hoping to get the experience over with quickly Peter took several deep breaths, ignoring the pain it caused.

"Just breath normally, Agent." Dr. Halberg said gently.

Finding it nearly impossible to follow the order now that he was fixated on it Peter settled for just slowing down and not exaggerating every breath. The doctor didn't waste any time and worked quickly to listen in a few different spots to make sure there weren't any immediate threats. Satisfied that Peter was stable the doctor retreated to the end of the bed to give Peter back his space.

"Okay, there is still some congestion but that's to be expected." The surgeon reported. "How's your pain level?"

"Tolerable."

"Good enough for now." Dr. Halberg nodded. "Let's get you up to CCU. We can't turn all the lights off between here and there. Would you like a blindfold or do you just want to keep your eyes closed?"

"I'll just keep my eyes closed." Peter replied being just as skeptical about being that sensitive to light as Neal had been.

"Fair enough. I'll call transport, it will take them ten to fifteen minutes to come get you. In the meantime would you be open to a visitor? Agent Hughes is outside."

"Please, I'd like to see him."

"I'll go get him."

Peter didn't even realize how on guard he was until the surgeon was out of sight and he was able to relax. Elizabeth noticed his reaction to the doctor and put her hand on his shoulder in support. Having been fixated on the doctor Peter jolted slightly at her touch. Horrified that he'd reacted negatively to her Peter brought his hand up and put it over hers to keep her from taking it away. Her turned to look at her with a guilty expression.

"I'm sorry." Peter apologized.

"Don't apologize." Elizabeth said softly. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

"I don't even want you trying." Peter said seriously. "I made it back to you, that's all that matters."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement and smiled bravely. It broke Peter's heart to see the stress of the past two months reflecting in her eyes. Now that the initial rush of their reunion was over she looked ready to drop with exhaustion and he was starting to worry about when the last time she got any sleep was. Peter didn't have any concept of the amount of time that had passed since Neal had been found and now. He was about to ask her if she needed to lay down when Hughes announced himself outside the curtain. Peter had been anxious to talk to Hughes before, but he was regretting accepting him as a visitor now.

"Elizabeth…" Peter started.

"It's okay." Elizabeth interrupted.

"Thank you." Peter said before addressing Hughes. "Come in, Sir."

"Peter." Hughes greeted warmly as he stepped just inside the curtain. "I won't bother you with anything, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you."

"Actually...I do have one time sensitive matter." Hughes admitted. "Do you know who abducted you? Caffrey has been drawing like madness but so far he hasn't identified any of his drawings as your kidnapper."

"Neal never saw him." Peter explained. "But I did. Twice. He gave the name 'York' but I doubt that's true. If you can get me a sketch artist I can describe him, legally we shouldn't have Neal do it."

"A sketch artist may not be necessary."

"You have someone in custody?" Peter asked surprised.

"Sort of." Hughes said vaguely.

"Do you not have any evidence against him?" Peter asked. "How do you have someone in custody without any evidence?"

"It's complicated." Hughes replied. "If you are up to it I will have Violent Crime set up a photo line up."

"I'm up for it." Peter said quickly.

"I'll have it soon." Hughes nodded before turning to Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, it is very important that you not talk to Peter about anything that happened while he was gone. Nothing. Understood?"

"Why…" Elizabeth stopped with a sharp horrified gasp. "No, Reese…no, please…it can't be…he…he was in our house…I…"

"Elizabeth, please." Hughes said sympathetically.

"What's going on?" Peter asked anxiously.

"She can't talk to you about it, Peter, and neither can I. We could be called to the stand and I want everything above board. We are on very shaky ground right now as it is."

"If you have him I can identify him." Peter said firmly. "I will never forget his face."

"Can anyone back you up? You know how weak eye witness testimony is particularly when there are complications."

"Jake, Jake can back me up." Peter furrowed his brow as a memory tugged at him. "Wait…Jake, what happened to him?"

"Unfortunately he bolted from the rescuers and in the chaos we lost him."

"No, no." Peter said becoming increasingly agitated. "He can't...he's a...he tort..." Peter stopped unable to finish his sentence as his stomach twisted painfully.

"I'm sorry. No one was expecting him to run like that. He was branded unlike the men who resisted the SWAT, and it was generally understood that he was another kidnap victim."

"You have to find him, he is incredibly unstable and dangerous."

"Agent McKenzie reported that he saved your life."

"Agent McKenzie?" Peter asked confused.

"Liam." Hughes clarified. "Neal hesitated when I asked if he was friend or foe but eventually he identified him as an ally."

"It's complicated…"


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter Sixty-six

"That…wasn't so bad."

Staring at the fog covered mirror Neal tried and failed to believe his own lie. Grateful to have it over with and to be clean Neal reached out to swipe some of the condensation off the mirror to see if he could attempt to tame his damp hair. Clearing a space in the mirror Neal jolted in terrified shock at the sight of Jake standing directly behind him in the reflection with a dangerous gleam in his dark eyes. Whipping around with his hands held up offensively Neal knit his brow in confusion when he discovered he was alone. Shaking his head to clear it only resulted in making him dizzy.

"Maybe I should let the doctors take a look at me." Neal sighed heavily.

Ignoring the brief hallucination Neal pulled his fingers of his right hand through his hair a few times and decided it was good enough. Not daring to look in the mirror again Neal picked up the clean scrub shirt that Mozzie had gotten for him. Getting into the shirt was a bit of a struggle since his left shoulder still didn't want to cooperate. It wasn't all that painful but during his fight with Danisko there had been a brief flash of pain and after that he simply couldn't lift his arm more than about half way.

Choosing to also ignore what was likely a rotator cuff injury Neal stepped back out into the CCU room. While waiting for Neal Mozzie had laid down on the couch and had quickly fallen asleep. Smiling Neal walked over to the bed and pulled the blanket off to cover Mozzie. Searching around for a clock Neal noted that it was only just past ten pm, but the stresses of the day had taken their toll on his friend. Neal was just about to check to see if Peter was out of surgery when Jones opened the privacy curtain that was over the sliding glass door. Neal hated the way his appearance caused his heart to race, but he couldn't help the automatic reaction.

"Caffrey," Jones said quietly "Peter is settled in next door, he'd like to see you."

Even though he could have replied vocally Neal just nodded. He took one last look down at himself to make sure there weren't any large blood stains on his fresh clothes. Satisfied that he was presentable Neal hurried over to see Peter. He'd had a painful knot in his stomach since he had been forced to carry on down the tunnel alone that had grown tighter with every passing hour. He hadn't really been able to enjoy any of his freedom yet or even really process the idea that their nightmare was over. Even learning that Peter had been found had only eased his anxiety just enough to allow him to finally drop from exhaustion.

Hurrying out of the room Neal hoped to be able to start feeling like everything was going to be okay once he had real confirmation that he hadn't made it out alone. Once in the dimly lit hall Neal paused when he noticed one of the doctors watching him from behind the circular nursing station desk. He knew the professional only wanted to help but he didn't like the man's look of clinical disapproval at his patient running around when he should be resting. Silently promising that he would submit to medical attention after seeing Peter Neal stepped next door.

Letting himself into the room through the privacy curtain Neal smiled at the scene. Peter was doing a better job following doctor's orders by being in bed with the head up so that he was more sitting up than laying down. Having just been through one of the longest days of her life, emotionally speaking, Elizabeth was curled up on the couch sleeping just like Mozzie was next door. Not having noticed Neal yet Peter was lovingly watching Elizabeth sleep with an outright enraptured serene gaze. Neal envied Peter's ability to seemingly believe that all was right in the world now that they were out while Neal himself still felt the horror of their captivity nipping at his heels. Able to find at least some temporary release now that he was sure Peter was safe Neal breathed a literal sigh of relief.

Showing he wasn't without his own mental scars Peter jerked at the sound with a sharp painful gasp. Before Neal could apologize for startling him Peter turned to look at him and his face lit up with a bright smile. Peter reached out with a shaky hand to encourage Neal to step closer. Accepting the invitation Neal smiled warmly as he stepped forward and took Peter's hand. Peter pulled Neal in closer, bringing his free hand up he gently cradled the side of Neal's face. Finding comfort in the contact Neal carefully put his hand on Peter's chest over his heart. Peter smiled even brighter, his dark eyes glittering from a mixture of relief and joy. Enjoying the moment of peace Neal closed his eyes as the persistent pain in his stomach finally abated. Worried he might pass out again Neal opened his eyes again and looked down at Peter who was staring up at him with lopsided grin.

"I'm so proud of you, Neal." Peter said softly.

"Si vales, valeo." Neal replied sincerely.

"I could not have been that strong without you."

Neal smiled with a slight flush. Peter noticed the blush and he laughed before drawing Neal closer in to kiss his forehead. Neal chuckled finding the mirthful noise was louder than his actual voice at the moment. Finally releasing Neal Peter tilted his head back and made an almost purring noise of contentment. Neal put the back of his hand against Peter's forehead to make sure he wasn't delirious from fever, but his skin felt normal. Still smiling Peter took a deep breath and repeated the sound.

"Peter what are you on?" Neal asked only half jokingly.

"Morphine drip." Peter motioned his head towards the pump connected to his IV. "It's a little strong to be honest, but I forgot to tell them to unhook it."

"Peter, you do know you have to press the little button in order for that to do anything, right?"

"What?" Peter opened his eyes looked around until he saw the cord with a button in the sheets next to him. "Oh. I guess it's just 'rescue high' mixed with a little post anesthesia. Getting out of the Labyrinth, being reunited with Elizabeth, knowing you're safe…I don't think I'm capable of pain right now."

Neal smiled sadly wishing his own rescue afterglow had lasted the way Peter's was. For a brief moment when the two subway workers had pulled him out of the pit he'd been trapped in he'd been elated, but it had quickly dissolved into fear that they wouldn't get to Peter in time. Seeing Neal's expression Peter's own mood sobered. Neal tried to fake a more convincing smile but only made matters worse as Peter saw right through it. Increasingly concerned Peter struggled to sit up a little straighter, grimacing in pain with the movement despite his words a few seconds prior.

"Neal…"

"I'm fine." Neal interrupted. "Or at the very least I will be. I'm still a little jittery, but now that you're here that will pass. I'll be okay."

"I don't think it's going to be as simple as that, Neal. After everything you've been through…well, I know I wouldn't just bounce back from that."

"What are you talking about? You've just been through exactly what I have."

"No, Neal, that's not true." Peter said seriously. "We shared a common trauma, but Jake didn't single me out every chance he got to torture me the way he did with you."

"Jake didn't tor…"

"Neal, stop right there." Peter said with an angry edge to his voice all of a sudden. "Don't defend him, don't minimize his crimes against you. I should have fought harder to keep you from him."

"Peter, you did everything you could."

"It wasn't enough." Peter growled bitterly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have done more, I should have done more before any of this started, we never should have been taken in the first place. It's my job to keep us safe in the field and I failed, I missed something. We got those cards and now we are forever going to wear that emblem because I didn't…"

"Peter, enough." Neal interrupted. "It's not your fault."

Peter nodded slightly but he didn't look convinced. Giving in to a moment of weakness Peter closed his eyes and let tears slip down his cheek. Feeling guilty for having crashed Peter's mood so completely Neal took his hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. Peter squeeze back and his smile did returned even if though it held an air of sorrow now. Neal put his free hand back over Peter's heart to silently assure him that he was forgiven. Nodding in grateful acknowledgment Peter relaxed again. Neal didn't even think twice about how much they were both still using touch to calm one another or even the fact that around Peter he was using his voice almost normally again. Peter looked over at Elizabeth which further settled him before he turned back to Neal with a conflicted expression knitting his brow.

"I know Jake is mentally unstable, and I know he's a victim." Peter whispered. "But I don't forgive him for what he did to you, what he did to us. I can't."

"I'm not sure I can either." Neal admitted.

Peter looked up at Neal in a mixture of surprise and concern at the confession.

"He did try to murder me."

"But he also saved my life." Peter sighed.

"I want to just hate him, but I still find myself feeling sorry for him."

"He didn't have to be so cruel, he admitted to me that he enjoyed it, worse he told me he knew what he was doing to you was wrong."

"I know." Neal shivered at the memory of how Jake used to playfully torment him. "Is he here in the hospital or did the FBI just arrest him?"

"Neither." Peter shook his head sadly. "He…he ran."

"What? Why?"

"Honestly I think because he was convinced I was going to die and that he was going to get blamed for it."

"He wants to see the sky but I can't even handle a bathroom light. We have to find him, he isn't going to make it on his own. He can't possibly have anywhere to go or anyone to turn to."

"If he's smart he knows he can turn to me. All he has to do is call the FBI."

"But they'll arrest him."

"I'm sorry, Neal, there is no happy ending here for Jake. No matter how you look at it he is a murderer." Peter said heavily. "At best he'll be institutionalized for life in a high security mental ward, at worst he'll be gunned down by FBI when he resists arrest."

"I worry that Jake might think the latter is actually the best case scenario."

"Maybe, but I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Don't worry about Jake, let the FBI take care of him. I need you to focus on you."

"I'm fine, Peter. Really."

"You can't know that yet, I don't even know if I'm okay yet."

"What?"

"The dust has to settle before you can see the damage and it could be weeks, even months, before that actually happens." Peter said solemnly. "Just promise me you won't fall into old habits and keep secrets from me."

"I promise."

"Good, because I'm not your handler anymore, Neal, and I'm going to need you just as much as you are going to need me."

"I don't think I ever thought I'd hear you say that." Neal teased.

"Neither did I, but the Labyrinth has changed...everything." Peter paused before smiling ruefully. "As close as we have been for the past few years I never really knew how to classify our relationship before, but now I do."

"Friends?"

"Family."


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter Sixty-seven

"Hon?"

Wandering through a murky version of his home that defied physics in both size and lay out Peter searched his dream for Elizabeth. With a growing sense of dread and anxiety he looped around in the impossibly interconnecting rooms frantically. Coming to the kitchen for what he felt was the dozenth time Peter stopped cold in his tracks at the state of it. Similar to when Keller had kidnapped her there was an over turned pot on the stove, however rather than the floor being spattered in tomato sauce the floor was soaked in blood.

"Welcome home, Agent Burke."

Still in shock Peter turned around to find York standing in a distorted copy of his living room with a smug smile slung across his face.

"I kept your wife out of this the first time around as a professional courtesy," York said casually before dropping his voice to a menacing tone "but now you've gone and made things personal."

Unable to accept the horror of the situation Peter was frozen in place staring at York. Looking like a beaten dog Jake stepped into view from his hiding place in York's shadow with his hands held behind his back and his eyes fixed on the floor.

"J…Jake?"

"Where else did you think he was going to go?" York chuckled. "I'm all he has."

"I'm sorry." Jake whimpered.

Jake brought his hands from around his back to reveal that they were covered in blood; Elizabeth's blood. Far more affected by the sight of the blood on Jake's hands than seeing it spread across the floor Peter bucked the scenario the nightmare was presenting him so hard that he actually woke himself up. Startled awake with the haze of the nightmare clinging to him Peter told himself it had to just be a bad dream despite how real it still felt simply because it was too horrific a reality to accept. Searching the dimly lit room desperately Peter nearly passed out with relief when he found Elizabeth getting up from the couch to step up to his bed side. He still had the head of the bed up, finding it was easier to breath sitting up. Peter's heart was still racing painfully but he smiled at her in hopes of hiding his previous anxiety as he reached out to take her hand.

"I love you." Peter said warmly.

"I love you too." Elizabeth forced a brave smile but it did little to hide her stress.

"Don't worry about my nightmares, they'll pass." Peter assured. "I just need some more time awake with you."

Elizabeth's smile became more genuine as she nodded.

"Did you get some sleep?"

"I did. How are you feeling?"

"Is Neal sleeping?" Peter asked rather than answered.

"He is." Elizabeth sighed sadly.

"Hon?" Peter asked concerned.

Elizabeth stepped to the side slightly to reveal that Neal was curled up on the floor with his back pressed into the corner. He had been offered a pillow and a blanket but instead of actually using them he was just holding them to his chest. A sickening pit opened up in Peter's stomach seeing Neal mimicking how they had slept together for the past two months on his own. Starting to pant in his sleep Neal whimpered in a grip of a nightmare but didn't wake.

"I tried to get him to go back to his room or at the very least lay down on the couch but he didn't feel comfortable doing either." Elizabeth explained.

"…what am I going to do?" Peter whispered. "I don't know how to deal with this. What if I make him worse?"

"You can't make him worse."

Peter turned a heartbreaking expression on Elizabeth at the thought that Neal was so broken that he couldn't do any more harm.

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right." Elizabeth said quickly. "I meant that any support you give him will be helpful."

"What if I'm not enough?"

"Don't underestimate yourself, Hon." Elizabeth leaned in and kissed Peter's cheek. "For that matter don't underestimate Neal."

Peter nodded despite still fearing what the future was going to hold. As close as they had been over the past two months Peter was worried that it wasn't going to be long before Neal started pushing him away again. He had always hid his problems or had flat out run from them in the past and Peter knew how hard that pattern of behavior could be to break. Not seeing his own dysfunctional pattern of dealing with his own problems by worrying about other people's instead Peter stared at Neal curled up on the floor trying to decide if he should wake him.

"Knock, knock." A soft female voice came from outside the privacy curtain.

"Come in." Peter replied.

Having taken advantage of the lull in the conversation the same way the surgeon had a strikingly thin woman in a well fit blue dress with a white lab coat over it entered the room. She contemplated Neal sleeping on the floor for a moment before turning her attention to Peter.

"Agent Burke, Mrs. Burke," she greeted quietly with a hint of a Ukraine accent "my name is Dr. Azarov. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Peter replied automatically. "I'm more worried about Neal, has he let anyone look at him?"

"No." Dr. Azarov shook her head. "However at this point it's far more important that we get both of you eating again. With the level of malnutrition you're both displaying that's priority number one. Since arriving you haven't eaten anything and Mr. Caffrey has only had a single bottle of Ensure."

"Are you sure he drank that?" Peter asked doubtfully.

"Either that or he poured it down the sink." Dr. Azarov said jokingly.

"He poured it down the sink." Peter said confidently.

"What?"

"Trust me." Peter said unable to hide his own revulsion.

"I'll take that off the menu." Dr. Azarov said knowingly. "Can I talk you into chicken broth?"

Peter nodded even though he wasn't even the slightest bit hungry. For so long eating anything had been such an unpleasant experience that Peter couldn't even name anything that would taste good right now. Hoping that starting slow would lead to a better appetite he was willing to force something down. Peter looked down at Neal and hoped that he could talk him into doing the same. Azarov followed Peter's gaze and guessed his train of thought.

"I will bring two bowls and give you some privacy," Dr. Azarov offered "but someone has to witness Mr. Caffrey eat something in the next few hours or we are going to have start considering a PEG."

"What does that mean?"

"A feeding tube." The doctor clarified.

"No, no he'll never agree to that."

"Then he needs to eat or his organs are going to start shutting down."

Having given her grim prognosis Azarov turned to leave. Peter appreciated that the doctor was being direct but at the same time it sent a pang of anxiety through him to hear that Neal was still in danger of starving to death. Elizabeth noticed his distress and squeezed his hand to assure him that neither one of them were going to just let Neal starve. Suddenly remembering what a wonderful cook Elizabeth was Peter relaxed, even if he couldn't think of anything he wanted to eat he knew she'd come up with something. Considering how much she enjoyed cooking as well it would make for a good stress reliever for her as well.

It didn't take long for the doctor to bring in two plastic bowls with lids on them. Peter doubted that the doctor often hand delivered meals and appreciated that the hospital staff was cutting down on the number of strangers he had to deal with. It wasn't even until now that he realized that they were also refraining from coming in every two hours and taking vitals. Peter knew he was wearing a portable heart monitor, but Neal clearly wasn't. Even though this was a large hospital he wondered just how much experience they had with cases like his and Neal's. Even the fact that the FBI had basically taken over the CCU must have distributed how they regularly conducted business.

"I should go find Mozzie." Elizabeth said. "Do you want me to wake Neal for you?"

"No. I'll do it."

"Okay. I'll take Mozzie down the cafeteria, we need to eat too. We'll be back in an hour or so."

"Don't go anywhere, even within the hospital, without an Agent."

"Reese already has one assigned to me." Elizabeth smiled.

"Good." Peter smiled. "I'm sorry, El…I hate asking you to leave."

"You didn't ask me to leave." Elizabeth smiled. "I volunteered."

"Thank you."

"Good luck."

Elizabeth leaned in for a kiss that Peter gladly accepted. He hated watching her leave, even though he knew she was safe in the hospital it still worried him to not be able to see her. Solving the spike in his anxiety by focusing on Neal Peter pulled the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Not even thinking that he probably shouldn't be standing on his own Peter got to his feet. He was shaky but he solved that issue by holding onto the IV pole for support since it needed to come with him anyway. Stacking the two closed bowls of soup on top of one another Peter took them over to Neal. Carefully kneeling down next to him he put the bowls on the floor. It didn't even occur to Peter to use his voice to wake Neal, in the Labyrinth when either one of them was sleeping the other was already right there so it made more sense to use movement to wake one another.

Peter didn't even realize how tightly Neal was holding the pillow and blanket in his arms until he put his hand on his shoulder, the contacted caused Neal to relax his powerful hold. Looking like he was actually resting now Peter hated to wake him. Peter wondered what they were going to do for Neal going forward at night. He was looking forward to being able to sleep with Elizabeth in his arms, but after months of sleeping with a guardian Neal might not do so well on his own. Pushing aside that issue for the more pressing matter of getting Neal eating again Peter gently rocked Neal's shoulder. Taking in a sharp breath Neal glanced up at Peter with a terrified expression before welding his eyes shut again.

"Neal…"

"No, I'm sorry, Peter, I can't…" Neal whispered. "I can't go back to the Ring, please forgi…"

"Neal," Peter interrupted "I'm not waking you up to fight. You got us out, remember? We're at the hospital. You're safe."

Keeping his eyes closed Neal visibly concentrated as his brow knit. Eventually finding the memories Neal opened his eyes and looked around the room to confirm them. Turning his attention to Peter Neal managed a warm smile. Peter smiled back and tried to help Neal sit up only to be sharply reminded that his ribs had recently had several plates put in them. Seeing Peter's flash of pain Neal quickly sat up looking for a way to help. Peter put his hand up to let Neal know he didn't need any help. Sitting down next to Neal so he could lean against the wall as well Peter took a moment to catch his breath. Once he was sure he wasn't going to pass out Peter leaned forward and pulled the bowls closer. Taking the lids off Peter placed one in front of Neal.

"No, thank you." Neal pushed the broth away. "I'm not hungry."

"Please. For me."

Neal sighed heavily in resignation as he looked down at the broth. In hopes of further encouraging him Peter picked up his own bowl and even though his stomach turned a little he drank from it. Once he actually got started on the broth Peter found the warm liquid surprisingly comforting, it had been months since he'd had anything that wasn't room temperature. Neal followed suit and from how quickly he finished the broth Peter guessed that he had a similar positive reaction to the warmth if not the taste. Putting the empty bowl down Peter moved a little closer to put his shoulder against Neal's as they sat in silence for a moment.

"Peter, I...I need you to do something for me." Neal said suddenly.

The way Neal had hesitated made Peter nervous about agreeing to anything so he just gave Neal and expectant look.

"I need you to describe York to me." Neal said in a hushed whisper as he was afraid someone might over hear. "In as much detail as you can, right down to the way he dresses."

"What?"

"I need to be able to draw him."

"Hughes already has a suspect."

"I know."

"You do?"

"For some reason when you can't talk people suddenly assume you can't hear." Neal said with a bitter edge. "Hughes and Jones were discussing someone named 'Walker' that they took into custody on some very flimsy charges who has a very good chance of being York."

"You don't need to draw him. Hughes will bring me a photo line up soon."

"You misunderstand."

"I guess I do."

"I want to be able to back up your testimony."

"You want me to help you lie." Peter said disapprovingly.

"I want to make sure that the man who kidnapped and tortured us doesn't go free."

"He won't."

"He will if the only evidence is a single eyewitness testimony, we both know how weak that is. Made even worse by the fact that you already have two very good reasons to accuse him even if he is innocent."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know all the details, something to do with Walker and Elizabeth."

Peter's blood ran cold remembering how upset Elizabeth had been when Hughes had mentioned they had a suspect. He had been hazy from the events of the day and surgery but he distinctly recalled how distressed she became, mentioning something about him being in the house before Hughes had cut her off.

"It will be easy for any lawyer to say your judgment and memory are clouded since Elizabeth might have fed you information on a distressing encounter and you could want revenge knowingly or even unknowingly."

"Memory can be tricky." Peter admitted. "Particularly in stressful situations."

"They might even further discredit your account by saying you've been coached by the FBI to accuse him."

"Why would the FBI do that?"

"Because Walker suing them."

"What?"

"And from what I gathered his case is a lot stronger than ours."

"The answer is still 'no', Neal."

"Peter…"

"No. York took so much from us already, I'm not letting him take my integrity…or yours."


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Long chapter is long. :) Also...another late night...must sleep...work in the morning.

 

Chapter Sixty-eight

"Neal, I said 'no', end of discussion."

"Peter…"

"Stop." Peter growled as he started to become annoyed with Neal's perseveration. "Neal, it's not your job to catch York or mine for that matter. We are on the other side of the crime now, we have to trust the system."

"The last time you 'trusted the system' you almost ended up in prison for life for a murder you didn't commit." Neal pointed out coldly. "If I hadn't lied for you…"

"I never asked you to lie for me, and you know *damn* well I would have said 'no' if you had asked me first."

"That's not the point." Neal said frustrated. "The system is broken and if we don't help them get Walker…"

"Neal," Peter interrupted "we don't even know if Walker is York. For all we know Walker is innocent."

"What are the chances of that? He went after Elizabeth, Peter, he was *in* your house."

"Don't manipulate me like that Neal." Peter said darkly.

"Peter…"

"Neal, please." Peter sighed heavily as he gave Neal an imploring look. "I can't do this with you right now; I'm exhausted, my nerves are shot, every breath is painful. I can't worry about York or Walker, and I don't want to argue with you. I want more than anything to help you but I can't do that if you're going to drive a wedge between us by trying to force me into lying in a court of law. Please, don't do this."

Neal winced in guilt at Peter's desperate pleading tone, it was way too similar to the way he used to beg Jake for mercy on his behalf. Giving in for now Neal fell silent with a slight nod of concession. Peter visibly relaxed as his expression warmed once again. Still sitting on the floor against the wall Peter looked like he could pass out at any moment as he reached up and pressed his hand over his injured ribs. Neal was about to suggest that Peter lay against him and get some sleep when he realized that there was no reason for Peter to stay on the hard floor when there was a perfectly good bed in the room.

Having to admit that he wasn't feeling very well either Neal suppressed a cough to keep Peter from harping on him to let the doctors poke at him. Clearing his throat Neal was accosted by a putrid taste that nearly caused him to lose the small amount of broth that he had drunk. Swallowing hard against the vile taste Neal clenched his jaw to keep Peter from picking up on his rancid breath. A flicker of motion caught the corner of Neal's eye but when he looked over into the dark corner there wasn't anything there. Having sworn he'd seen something Neal stared at the corner waiting for the motion to reveal itself.

"Neal?" Peter asked concerned. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

Slowly getting to his feet Neal offered his hand to Peter to help him up despite the wave of dizziness that was threatening to drop him. The effort it had taken to get up had left Neal breathless with a deep ache in his side, but he was so used to having trouble catching his breath that he didn't think anything of it. The pain in his side had also been such a constant that it had become background noise. Accepting Neal's offer Peter failed on his first attempt to stand despite the assistance. Concerned by the fact that the argument had taken so much out of Peter Neal put the back of his hand against Peter's forehead to see if he was running a fever but his skin felt cool. Peter however furrowed his brow.

"Neal, do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're warm, please let the doc…"

"We need to get you back into bed." Neal deflected.

Under any other circumstance Neal knew Peter would have continued to press the issue but as it was Peter was fighting to keep his eyes open. Helping Peter back into bed Neal pulled the blankets over him. Closing his eyes briefly Peter shook his head to try to keep awake. Breathing heavily he was refusing to give into his body's demands for sleep.

"Peter, you need to get some sleep."

"You need to let the doctors help you." Peter countered.

"I'll consider it." Neal teased.

When Peter still didn't surrender to sleep Neal brushed his temple to encourage him to close his eyes. Neal had to admit that Peter's skin felt oddly cool against his own. Still the thought of letting one of the doctor's touch him churned his stomach painfully. Feeling himself at the edge of panic at just having mockingly agreeing to it Neal knew he didn't have the courage to seek one of the doctors out right now. In the Labyrinth he'd had zero control of who laid their hands on him and now that he finally had some say in the matter he was finding nearly impossible to agree to submit to anyone no matter what their intentions were. Rationalizing that he would know if something was seriously wrong Neal decided that for now there was no harm in delaying.

Standing by Peter's bedside Neal was starting to feel fatigued himself but he was determined to remain on watch at least until Elizabeth and Mozzie returned. Peter was about to fall a sleep when a voice outside the room roused him. Neal was hoping that he would just settle back down but whoever it was had caught Peter's full attention. Neal didn't recognize the deep male voice but it was clear that Peter did. Snapping his eyes open Peter looked around suddenly looking alert again.

"Liam?" Peter called out.

"Peter wha…" Neal stopped cold when a man near his own age suddenly peeked around the curtain.

"Hello again, Agent Burke." Liam greeted with a warm smile. "Don't mind me, I'm just taking over for Agent Fallon. They were taking volunteers for guard duty and figured it would be a good excuse to check in on you."

"Thank you."

"I went to a lot of trouble to get you to the hospital, I'm not letting anyone get you now…plus I get over time pay for protection detail." Liam added with a chuckle.

"Please, come in."

Liam accepted the invitation and stepped into the room. He walked over towards the pair in an oddly deliberate stride that somehow left no question to his path and intentions. Neal did his best to hide how uncomfortable he was with the intrusion as the SWAT Agent stepped up to the opposite side of the bed. Neal knew he had nothing to fear from the Agent and it frustrated him how negatively he was reacting to him. Even though his mind was telling him he was safe his body was acting as if the bell in the Ring was about to go off and cause the Agent to suddenly attack him for a fifteen minute bout.

"You must be my free diving cartographer." Liam said as he flashed Neal a bright open smile.

Liam leaned forward and started to offer his hand to Neal over the bed, but when he saw the way Neal froze at the action he rocked back and slipped his hands into his pockets instead. Not looking insulted or embarrassed by the cold reception to the attempted handshake Liam moved seamlessly into conversation to ease the tension he'd caused.

"Has anyone told you how far you swam?"

Neal shook his head.

"Forty-two meters." Liam announced.

"Wait, what?" Peter asked shocked not knowing this detail of Neal's escape.

"Yup, just under half the length of a football field under solid stone." Liam confirmed. "I cheated and used scuba gear. Once we were on the other side we would have probably spent hours trying to find our way through that maze without your map. Without your help I honestly don't think things would have ended as well as they did. You did good, Agent Caffrey."

"I'm not an Agent." Neal said quickly.

"Really?" Liam asked sounding genuinely surprised. "You could have fooled me. You certainly have the loyalty and bravery for it. I just assumed you two were partners."

"We are." Peter confirmed. "Officially Neal is my CI."

"Your CI?" Liam asked incredulously. "The last time I asked my CI for a favor he spat at me and had some interesting words to say about my mother and her relations with a goat."

Neal wasn't sure how to respond to Liam uncertain if it was a joke or not. With his heart pounding in his ears Neal just wanted the new Agent to leave. The longer he was on his feet the more his fatigue was stealing his focus. Swallowing hard Neal forced a smile knowing he was being impolite to the man who had saved Peter's life. Liam looked Neal over without trying to be overtly obvious about it, but on high alert Neal noticed the inspection.

 _'He's sizing you up, Neal.'_ Jake's voice suddenly whispered in Neal's ear.

Startled by Jake's voice Neal jolted violently and looked over his shoulder only to find no one there. Breathing quick and shallow with the wash of adrenaline Neal tried to play off his reaction to the auditory hallucination. However both men had seen the paranoid move. Peter was wide awake now with anxious concern. For reasons Neal didn't understand Peter's reaction suddenly made him angry. Liam had abandoned his jovial mood for an almost blunted affect as he tried to keep the energy in the room as low as possible.

"Mr. Caffrey, when was the last time someone took a set of vitals on you?" Liam asked in a calm monotone. "You're looking a little hypoxic."

"I'm fine."

"Really? Are you sure you're not hallucinating?"

Feeling like he had just been caught in a lie Neal took a step back from the observant Agent. Motion caught in the corner of Neal's eye again and he jerked his hands up defensively. The more he panicked the worse his condition was becoming. Part of him knew he desperately needed help but like an injured wolf he was finding that his instinct was to slink away from the pack, afraid of showing weakness to the others and being torn apart. With fear and sickness clouding his thoughts as he started to fall off the razor's edge of health that he'd been teetering on Neal stared aggressively at both men. Peter moved to get out of bed but Liam tapped gently on his shoulder to silently request that he stay put. Seeing the pair working together just ramped up Neal's mounting paranoia and he backed himself into the corner.

"Neal," Liam said firmly "I believe your oxygen levels are falling and it's affecting your thinking. Please, let me help you."

"Stay away from me." Neal snarled.

"Neal," Peter said gently "Liam is a highly trained paramedic, an FBI Agent, and he saved my life. You can trust him. I let him breathe for me and he didn't let me down. I honestly can't think of anyone I would trust more with your care right now."

"I promise I won't harm you." Liam assured.

Liam's careful wording broke through Neal's increasing delusions as he recognized that Liam's promise was actually a keepable one. The doctors that tried to approach him had all told him that they promised they wouldn't hurt him, but he was in pain even when he wasn't being touched so there wasn't anything they could do that wouldn't hurt. Assuring him instead that he didn't mean him any harm showed a better understanding of his situation. Feeling lost Neal turned to Peter for direction.

"Trust him." Peter encouraged.

Running out of fight Neal put his hands down and bowed his head in defeat. Hearing Jake laughing tauntingly at him Neal brought his hands back up and pressed them against his ears to silence the phantom without success. With a sympathetic look Liam motioned for Peter to get out of bed. Struggling with the sheets Peter managed to get up and joined Liam's side. Neal looked at each man in turn, ending up focusing on Jake who vividly appeared to be standing on the opposite side of Liam from Peter.

"Neal, do you see someone there?" Liam gestured to the empty air to his left.

"Jake." Neal admitted quietly.

"Don't worry about him, he can't hurt you." Liam said confidently. "Peter is going to help you sit down. Okay?"

Neal nodded finding it easier to agree to Peter's help than Liam's. Approaching Neal slowly Peter stopped just short of reaching him and held out his hand for Neal to take. Battling through his mounting confusion Neal took Peter's hand. Smiling encouragingly Peter guided Neal to take a few steps out of the corner before having him sit down on the floor. Circling behind Neal Peter sat down in the corner himself and Neal automatically leaned back against him.

"I'm going to come closer, but I'm not going to touch you." Liam announced before stepping up to the pair and kneeling down in front of them. "Neal, does anything in particular hurt more that everything else?"

Neal reached up and protectively held his hand over his right side low on his ribs.

"I'm going to take a look. Peter's going to pull your shirt up for you. Just relax. I think we both know he's not going to let anything happen to you."

Neal managed a smile and nodded. Reaching around Neal's waist Peter gathered up the hem of Neal's scrub shirt and lifted it up, keeping Neal in a loose embrace. Feeling vulnerable with his skin exposed Neal flashed back to Jake having him pinned against the bars when he was torturing him with the tazer to get a stronger fight reaction out of Peter. The scars from the electrical weapon ran down his left side as a series of bright white stars arranged in pairs from the two metal prongs. With Neal starting to hyperventilate Peter rested his chin over Neal's shoulder to increase their contact. Trying to control himself Neal pushed back harder against Peter to assure himself he was there. Liam gave Neal a chance to relax before speaking again.

"Can I look?" Liam asked and waited for Neal to nod before leaning in to get a better look. His job was made more difficult by the dim room but he managed. "The area is red, but I don't see an obvious wound."

"That's where he had the pneumothorax." Peter said.

"Pneumothorax?" Liam repeated with intense interest. "When?"

"A week and a half ago? Maybe longer." Peter replied uncertain. "Time has been hard to keep track of."

"How did you know that was what was wrong? How did he survive?"

"A doctor came and punctured his side with a large needle to bleed the air off."

"You got medical attention?" Liam ask surprised.

"I bartered for it."

Liam nodded solemnly in understanding before working to get Neal's attention again.

"Neal, do you have a bad taste in your mouth?" Liam asked.

"Like death." Neal whispered in horror.

"It's not death, Neal, it's your body fighting to stay alive. The taste is infection." Liam explained. "I think you have an abscess in the space between your lungs and your ribs from the puncture wound. A CT scan could confi…"

"No!" Neal barked in sudden panic as he started to fight to against Peter.

"Easy, Neal." Peter said gently as he held him a little tighter. "It won't hurt."

It wasn't the threat of pain that had sent Neal into a panic. It was the idea of having to submit to it in general. He was tried of being held down even if it was for his own good. His only exception to the rule was Peter and even now he was starting to feel claustrophobic in his arms. His hypoxia and fever were turning the routine medical exams into over exaggerated insult of his already diminished sense of autonomy.

"The other option is I can lance the area and drain it here." Liam offered.

Stopping his struggling Neal looked at Liam with a furrowed brow.

"Is that safe?" Peter asked anxiously.

"Honestly it's likely what they would do after the scan anyway. Doctors like to know exactly what they are getting into, but I practice field medicine and we are more comfortable flying blind." Liam smiled. "Neal, I can't knock you out, your health is too compromised for general anesthesia, but we can do it under local right here. I know this is hard, but if we don't do this you are going to go septic. Do you understand?"

Although shaking uncontrollably Neal nodded slightly.

"Can I go get the supplies?" Liam asked, he was always careful to ask permission before making any move.

Hesitating Neal looked over his shoulder to Peter for a decision. Peter wished he could talk Neal into the safer route of checking out if Liam's diagnosis was correct but he knew it would be a waste of time. Finding himself falling into Neal's pattern of silence as well Peter just nodded to let him know they needed to trust Liam on this.

"Okay." Liam nodded as well. "I will be right back."

 _'Right back to torture you.'_ Jake's voice hissed in Neal's mind. _'You're not really going to let that Fed stab you, are you?'_

Welding his eyes shut Neal twisted in Peter's arms so that he could bury his face against Peter's chest in an attempt to block out the powerful hallucination. Somehow being aware that it wasn't real made Jake's presence all the more unsettling, it meant there was truly no escape from him. Mistaking Neal's reaction to simple fear about the procedure Peter held him tighter and rocked him slowly.

"Liam is good at what he does, Neal, you're safe with him."

"Jake..."

"Jake's not here." Peter whispered. "And if he was I'd kill him before letting him take a step towards you."

The deadly edge to Peter's voice told Neal that his statement hadn't been hyperbole. Appreciating having a fierce protector Neal wrapped his arms low around Peter's waist to avoid his injured ribs. Peter ran his hand along Neal's back soothingly as they waited for Liam to return. Neal had just started to truly relax when Liam stepped back into the room with a kit in his hands wrapped in blue sterile paper. Peter guessed that Liam's timing was no accident and smiled to encourage him to join them again.

"Neal I need you to lay down on your left side, you can use Peter as a pillow."

"I'm used to it." Peter agreed.

Neal chuckled despite the nervous pit in his stomach. Peter encouraged him to lay down and he cradled Neal's head in his lap, brushing his unruly hair out of his face. Neal brought his hand up and Peter put his hand in his. Liam watched them, waiting for them to be settled before opening the kit up and after putting on a pair of gloves he picked up a small syringe that had been pre-filled with a clear fluid.

"The numbing agent stings a little bit, but it's not uncomfortable for long. I'm going to put my hand on your side so you know where I am and then I'll do the injection, please try to hold still when I do. Ready?"

It took Neal a moment to commit to letting Liam actually touch him. Peter gave his hand a quick squeeze to remind him that he was right there. Closing his eyes Neal nodded. He tried to hold still but he still jerked slightly when Liam put his gloved hand against him, although the stinging Liam had warned Neal about didn't bother him in the slightest.

"Good job, Neal. We will give that a second to take affect. Just as a heads up when we do this there is going to be a terrible smell, don't be alarmed." Liam warned before tapping his fingertip against Neal's side. "Can you feel that?"

Neal shook his head.

"Good. On the count of three take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can." Liam instructed. "You're going to feel better almost instantly. Ready?"

Neal gripped down on Peter's hand. Peter gave Liam a nod to let him know it was okay to start the count down.

"1, 2, 3…"

Neal took as deep a breath as he could manage and held it. There was no pain when Liam acted but there was a sudden release of pressure in his chest. Neal hadn't even realized how restricted his breathing had been by the abscess until it had been opened. Liam had been right, he felt world's better already. Able to draw more air Neal was struck by the powerful scent that Liam had warned them about. Instantly reminded of the room that had held the corpses Neal started dry heaving. Clearly having trouble with the smell himself Peter ran a shaky hand through Neal's hair to try a calm them both.

"Almost done." Liam announced as he worked to clean up gory mess. "You're doing great, Neal. You'll need an antibiotic for a while but it doesn't look like this went too deep."

Even though he had gotten his stomach under control Neal didn't have any strength left to reply. Laying on his side Neal stared vacantly across the floor. Sitting on the floor a few feet away Jake took a pull at a liquor bottle before glaring coldly at Neal. Neal whimpered to warn Peter that Jake was behind him.

 _'Don't think you're getting rid of me so easily.'_ Jake leered. _'I'm in your head…I have been for months.'_

Closing his eyes Neal tried to shut Jake out by focusing on Peter who was doing his best to calm him. Taking an easy deep breath Neal enjoyed the relatively cool and refreshing feel of Peter's hand carded into his fever heated hair. Relying on Peter to keep him safe from threats both real and imagined Neal allowed himself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

"I think he passed out." Peter said quietly.

"More likely he just fell asleep." Liam assured. "Here, let me take him back to bed."

"No." Peter automatically leaned protectively over Neal at the thought of having him taken away. "I've got him."

"You can't be lifting him so soon after your surgery."

"We'll be fine on the floor."

Liam looked like he was going to protest for a moment but he thought better of it and just smiled sadly at Peter. Peter knew that keeping Neal physically close and feeling like he was the only one who could keep him safe was a broken coping mechanism, but after being on watch over Neal basically twenty-four/seven for months he couldn't just turn it off. Liam sat back on his heels and studied the pair, trying to think if there was anything else he could do.

"It's going to be tough recovery for you both." Liam said bluntly. "But I have a very good feeling about you two. Just make sure that you're patient with one another, you're going to lash out at one another from time to time. That's only natural after everything that's happened. Don't be too hard on him when that happens, but more important don't be too hard on yourself for it."

"Thank you, Liam, for everything." Peter said gratefully. "I don't want to think about what might have happened if you hadn't volunteered for watch."

"That's not exactly what happened." Liam admitted with a guilty expression.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure it looks like the doctors here have been neglecting Neal by avoiding him, but they've actually been keeping a sharp eye on him and working very hard to find a good angle to approach him. He's been too coherent for them to 'force' any care on him and that would be counter productive anyway. So the hospital staff had a meeting with the White Collar team to problem solve. Agent Hughes suggested that the only medical authority Neal was going to let get within ten feet of him was someone that you personally vouched for."

"So they called you." Peter smiled.

"They did."

"This whole set up was a con?"

"I don't like that word." Liam winced teasingly. "More like a creative solution to a difficult problem."

"You sound like Neal." Peter chuckled.

"I'm sorry about all the subterfuge, but with Neal in the room there was no way to key you in on it. I was supposed to just check in first and catch you alone later to tell you the plan, but Neal was in a lot worse condition than I expected so I called an audible."

"Thank you. You did an amazing job with him."

"Thank you." Liam smiled. "I'm not that great of an actor. I really did think Neal was FBI, you two reciprocated so much loyalty that it never occurred to me that he was anything else. Through all of this no one ever thought to mention to me that he was your CI."

"That actually surprises me, he's been part of the team for a long time but…well let's just say that 'best behavior' hasn't been Neal's strong suite."

"Something tells me he's earned their respect now, and rightly so."


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter Sixty-nine

Escorted by an Agent Mozzie and Elizabeth made their way up from the cafeteria and back to the CCU. Neither one of them had been particularly hungry but they had both eaten something to keep up appearances, but they were mostly just giving Peter some time to talk Neal into eating something. They hadn't really had the mental or emotional strength to make small talk but luckily they were comfortable enough with one another to allow for a restful silence. After about an hour it was obvious that Elizabeth was starting to get too anxious to stay away from Peter any longer so Mozzie had suggested they at least return to the CCU floor. Once there they had been given the go ahead to enter the room by the guarding Agent.

Stepping into Peter's room Mozzie wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't finding them curled up together in the corner like a pair of puppy littermates. Neal had already been a little unrecognizable with his battered body, drastic weight loss and anxious behavior, but seeing him laying on his side with his ear pressed against Peter's chest gave Mozzie a moment of cognitive dissonance. Peter had his arms wrapped around Neal as if he was afraid someone was going to take him from him. Thinking about it Mozzie realized that was probably exactly Peter's fear. Extremely restless Peter twitched and panted for breath in the throws of a nightmare as he pressed his back harder into the corner and drew Neal closer. Even with his eyes closed he had a painfully frightened expression as he mewled quietly. Mozzie glanced over at Elizabeth and found she had her hand over her mouth as she struggled to stifle tears.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth whispered.

"It's okay." Mozzie assured.

"It's so hard to see Peter fearful like this, it's not a side of him that he's ever let me see."

Mozzie hadn't even known that Peter had a fearful side until Keller had taken Elizabeth. Even then it had more been a frantic undercurrent to his determined exterior and not the heartbreaking display they were seeing now. In contrast Neal looked the most peaceful Mozzie had seen him since his rescue. Neal had been in a state of sheer panic when Peter was still trapped and even afterward he had been gripped with nightmares while Peter was in surgery.  
Living one of the same nightmares now Peter jerked and whimpered in his sleep again. This time Neal surfaced somewhat and nuzzled at Peter's chest to calm him. The action worked surprisingly quickly and both men fell back into a deeper more restful sleep.

"They are going to be hard to separate after this." Mozzie noted sadly.

"They've always been hard to separate." Elizabeth smiled. "That little piece of plastic around Neal's ankle didn't keep him from running, and the contract Peter signed wasn't what kept him from sending Neal back to prison."

"I'll admit at times I've been more than a little jealous of their seemingly illogical loyalty to one another."

"Me too." Elizabeth chuckled.

Mozzie smiled at Elizabeth's good natured acceptance of having to share her husband to a certain degree with the con man. Mozzie hadn't always been so keen on having to share Neal with Peter, he had never fully trusted Peter's intention or liked the duality he had caused in Neal. However seeing them now he had to admit that the bond they shared was genuine, and if it hadn't been a hundred percent altruistic before it certainly was now. Still teary eyed Elizabeth suddenly yawned and looked around lost.

"Elizabeth?"

"What time is it? Or day for that matter?" She asked seriously. "I've completely lost track, it feels like I've been in this hospital for weeks and yet only minutes all at the same time. I'm exhausted but I was just sleeping not that long ago."

"Get some more sleep." Mozzie encouraged. "I'll keep and eye on Neal and Peter."

"Thank you, Mozzie. I couldn't have gotten through this without you."

"Anything to help." Mozzie blushed.

Elizabeth started to walk over to the couch but Mozzie redirected her to lay down on the hospital bed that Peter wasn't using. His hope was that she might actually get some real rest in the bed. It didn't take more than a few minutes for Elizabeth to fall asleep. With the amount of grief she had been carrying suddenly lifted the months of lost sleep were catching up to her. It had been difficult for Mozzie to see her so heart shattered with Peter gone. Looking over at Neal and Peter on the floor Mozzie was relieved beyond measure to have them back, but he was concerned about what the future held for them. Neal in particular had always been highly emotional and reactive and now he had another layer of complexity to add to it. So much had changed in Neal over the past few years that Mozzie had barely known how to deal with him even before this horrific event. Neal had become so much less carefree and internally torn since pairing up with Peter, but despite all the frustrations and difficult times he had always insisted on staying.

"Maybe it's finally be time to start an entirely new life somewhere, leave this all behind…for both your sakes."

Sighing to himself Mozzie decided that he would see where the next few weeks took Neal first before suggesting anything. However he was concerned that Neal's already questionable dependence on Peter was going to become unhealthily strong after this. Peter's first priority was always going to be Elizabeth, and understandably so, but that meant he might not have the extra emotional strength left over to deal with a broken Neal. Sitting down on the couch Mozzie watched the pair sleeping trying to figure out an outcome that would be best for everyone. It didn't take long for Neal to be the one suffering from a bad dream, but just as Neal had sensed Peter's restlessness Peter now did the same. Curling up around Neal tighter Peter was able to ease Neal back into a dreamless state almost instantly. Seeing the display Mozzie felt a little guilty for questioning Peter's commitment to Neal.

"You did keep him alive, Suit." Mozzie admitted. "Thank you."

"Mozzie?" Neal asked sleepily.

Mozzie jolted, not having expected to be over heard. Mozzie got up off the couch and walked over towards the pair. Seeing Mozzie approach Neal tensed and shook his head as he put his hand up to stop Mozzie.

"Neal?" Mozzie asked in an injured tone.

"Don't come any closer." Neal warned quietly. "Peter can be very violent when he wakes up and sees someone near me."

"Neal, wha…"

"Mozzie," Neal interrupted urgently in a hushed whisper "I need you to do something for me, quickly before Peter wakes."

"What do you need?"

"Do you know anything about this Walker?"

"Charles Walker, he's the CEO of a charity for missing persons called Light for the Lost…"

"A missing persons charity?" Neal questioned in disgust.

"Yeah, there is a very weak connection between him and someone whose son was killed as an indirect result of getting arrested by Peter. There's not much evidence against him, but I don't like him. He sought Elizabeth out offering to help her after you two disappeared, but no one was supposed to know about the abduction."

"I need to see a picture of him, right away."

"Sure." Mozzie nodded. "Hang on."

Mozzie stepped over to Elizabeth's purse and after double checking to make sure that she and Peter were both still asleep he opened the purse. Pulling Elizabeth's smartphone out of the pocket she kept it in he noticed that she had missed several calls from Asha as well as had ignored multiple texts from her asking if everything was okay. Mozzie could understand Elizabeth's hesitation to communicate anything with her now that the FBI directly suspected her boss of being the source of all this pain. Tapping Elizabeth's passcode into the phone Mozzie opened a browser and went to the Light for the Lost website and pulled up a professionally shot photo of Walker smiling warmly next to his written bio.

When Mozzie came back over Neal carefully reached out as far as he could with a shaky hand to take the phone from him without Mozzie having to get too close. Neal stared at the photo for a solid minute with his brow knit. Tightening his bruised jaw in a look of frustration Neal offered the phone back to Mozzie so he could put it back. Mozzie cleared the phone's webbrowser and used the corner of his shirt to wipe off his and Neal's fingerprints before putting it back in Elizabeth's purse.

"Well?" Mozzie asked. "Is it him?"

"I don't know." Neal admitted. "He's certainly not what I was expecting."

"What…wait, Neal, tell me you saw your captor."

"No." Neal replied bitterly. "Only Peter saw him, but I know it's Walker, it has to be. I can tell Hughes the memory came back to me once I was feeling better."

"What if you're wrong?"

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

"No, but, Neal, you can't identify Walker without having seen him."

"I've seen him now."


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have made this into like four chapters, but I decided I need to move along a little bit. ;)

Chapter Seventy

 

Waking without opening his eyes Peter worked to convince himself that when he did open them that he wasn’t going to see concrete. He told himself the memories of their rescue and time in the hospital were too real and coherent to have been a dream, but sitting on the floor with his back in the corner and Neal laying against him it was hard to ignore the nagging fear that they were still underground. Still trying to find the courage to confirm his surroundings Peter shivered as the linoleum floor offered just as little heat as concrete. 

Having only really been half awake Peter was jolted to full attention by someone approaching. Lashing out blindly Peter caught the intruder by the wrist and he gripped down. The feminine pitch to the surprised yelp that followed his attack caused Peter to instantly release his captive and recoil from her. The brief altercation woke Neal in a ready to fight state but Peter trapped him against his chest to make sure he didn’t make the same mistake he did. Neal panicked from the restraint at first but quickly relaxed as he figured out what had happened. With a sickening pit in his stomach Peter looked up at Elizabeth who was rubbing at her wrist. The Agent guarding the door had entered the room on full alert but stood down when Peter waved him away.

“Elizabeth, I am so sorry.” Peter apologized. 

“It was my fault.” Elizabeth smiled sadly. “I was told not to wake you, but I thought I could slip a blanket over you.” 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Elizabeth lied. “I was just startled.”

“I’m sorry,” Neal added “I shouldn’t have made Peter sleep on the floor.” 

Peter was about to point out to Neal that he hadn’t been the one who wanted to spend the night on the floor but was stopped when Neal leaned forward and revealed a large blood stain down his back. 

“Neal, careful, you’re bleeding.”

Getting to his feet Neal awkwardly tried to inspect the source of the bleeding. Elizabeth offered to help and Peter was pleased to see him not hesitate to accept. Elizabeth lifting up the edge of Neal’s shirt and revealed dried blood on his skin but no obvious source. 

 

 

“Neal, I don’t think it’s you. I think it’s Peter.” Elizabeth said before she turned her attention to the door. “Agent Ryans, can you get the doctor?”

“On it. Ma’am.” Agent Ryans called back. 

Still sitting on the floor Peter lifted up his shirt and looked down at the large dressing on his ribs from the surgery that was soaked through with blood. Just like Neal he’d become too used to being in pain to have noticed something was wrong. Feeling vulnerable alone on the floor Peter struggled to get to his feet, needing Neal’s help to actually get up. Once up Peter held his hand out to Elizabeth in further apology. Smiling warmly Elizabeth put her hand in his as she looked nervously at the large blood stain down the front of his scrubs.

“Are you okay?” Neal asked concerned.

“I probably really shouldn’t be sitting on the floor so soon after surgery.” Peter admitted. 

“No,” Dr. Azarov’s voice broke in from the door “you really shouldn’t.”

“I think it looks worse than it is.” Peter said. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dr. Azarov smiled. “Back to bed, Agent, let’s take a look.”

Peter silently asked Elizabeth to stay with Neal as he stepped over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He had noticed Neal backing up against the wall when Azarov had entered the room. Peter hoped that if Neal saw him trust the doctor that he might be more easily convinced into letting her take a look at him. They couldn’t call Liam in every time Neal needed medical treatment. 

Peter managed to pull off the bloodied shirt despite the flare in pain it caused his ribs. Peter looked up sharply as Elizabeth suddenly gasped. Having turned away Elizabeth sought to hide her renewed tears. Neal offered her a comforting embrace that she gratefully accepted. Peter flashed Neal a confused look causing Neal to flick his eyes down to Peter’s brand as an explanation. It hadn’t occurred to Peter that Elizabeth hadn’t seen his brand yet. Worried about the effect it had on her Peter reached up and rubbed at the patten York had burned into his chest.

“You don’t have to wear that mark forever, Agent.” Dr. Azarov said sympathetically. “Once you’re both medically stable I know a very good plastic surgeon who could remove them.”

Peter nodded at the offer, but he wasn’t sure if that was something he really wanted or not. If the brand continued to upset Elizabeth every time she saw it he would absolutely do anything to erase it. However at the same time it almost felt like a part of him now and covering up the physical evidence wasn’t going to change what happened. Looking back to Neal Peter couldn’t help but think that it was also part of their stronger bond, a reminder of what they had survived with one another’s help. Peter was so lost in thought over the mark that he barely noticed Azarov changing the messy bandage. 

“Okay, you were right,” Azarov admitted “it looked worse than it was, but please be careful with this wound for a while. The plates are strong but they can still be broken free of the bone and it will be harder to fix a second time.”

“I’ll be more careful.” Peter agreed. 

“Good.” Azarov smiled. “Do you think you could introduce me to your friend? Maybe put in a good word for me?” 

“Neal,” Peter spoke up “this is Dr. Azarov, she’s very good.”

“Hello, Doctor.” Neal greeted politely. 

“Good morning, Mr. Caffrey.” Dr. Azarov replied as she turned to face him. “I don’t suppose I could take a quick look at your side?” 

“Uh…”

“Neal,” Elizabeth said sweetly as she took a step back “please. It will make me feel better to know you’re okay.”

Neal chuckled and nodded as he found it was far harder to turn down a request from Elizabeth than Peter. Peter smiled knowingly having succumb to Elizabeth’s persuasiveness on many occasions. Neal peacefully allowed Azarov to approach, doing far better now that infection wasn’t causing Jake to whisper in his ear. He didn’t look exactly happy with the medical inspection particularly when Azarov had to change the bandage over his lanced side, but he quietly accepted it. Seeing generally how Neal moved Azarov narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. 

“The wound looks surprisingly good, but do you have any other issues?”

Neal shook his head. Peter wanted to point out to the doctor that the way Neal kept falling silent was an ‘issue’, but for now he was just happy that Neal was letting the doctor look at him. Azarov didn’t look very convinced by Neal’s response and took a step back to give him some room.

“Can you lift your left arm for me, Mr. Caffrey?” Azarov asked. 

Sighing in defeat Neal lifted his arm as far as he could. He had a little better range of motion than a few days ago, but it was still limited. 

“I’m guessing you have a bit of a rotator cuff tear, a steroid injection would likely help.” Azarov said. “If we do that now you have a good chance of avoiding surgery later. Can I have someone from ortho come up and do that?” 

Neal looked like he was about to say ‘no’ but Elizabeth gave him a gentle nudge and he conceded. Azarov wasted no time in taking advantage of Neal’ sudden compliance and also managed to get a blood sample for testing. Thanking both of her patients Azarov announced she was going to be back shortly with something to eat. Peter was surprised to find he actually was hungry and he hoped that Neal felt the same. 

“Where’s Mozzie?” Neal asked once Azarov had left. 

“The neighbors were having some trouble with Satchmo and he was kind enough to go check on him.” Elizabeth said. “I feel awful, he must feel completely abandoned. He never stopped looking for you, Peter.”

“That’s because he’s my good boy.” Peter said proudly. 

“He’s going to be ecstatic to see you.” Elizabeth smiled. 

“When can we go home?” Neal asked anxiously. 

“Not until you’re eating better.” Azarov replied as she returned with tray of easily digested options including two plastic cups with an unnaturally pink liquid. “The pink stuff is really what I’d like you to try first. It’s a protein drink and I know you aren’t fond of those, but this one strawberry sorbet that’s not milk based so I was hoping it might be a good exception.” 

“Thank you. We’ll try it.” Peter assured. 

Azarov left the tray on the small table before opening up one of the closets and pulling out a fresh set of scrub tops to replace the bloodied ones. Peter thanked Azarov again hoping that Neal would do the same, but once again he’d gone quiet. Peter sighed, before all of this one of his greatest struggles in life was keeping Neal from talking, particularly when there was an attractive woman present. It was worrisome to watch him being so powerfully introverted. 

Deciding to be grateful that Neal was at least comfortable around Elizabeth Peter pulled on a new shirt. Neal had a little trouble with getting in and out of his his shirt from his injury but he accepted a helping hand from Elizabeth and managed. Peter picked up the hot pink drink and sniffed at it. When it didn’t bring back any memories of the Labyrinth the way the vanilla flavor did Peter gave it a try. 

“Well?” Neal asked.

“I’ve had worse.” Peter replied honestly. 

“You’ve had cat food.” Neal pointed out. 

“And this is marginally better.” Peter replied as he held out the other glass to Neal.

“That’s fair.” Neal chuckled as he tried the pink drink like it was a fine wine. 

“Well?”

“I’ve had better.” 

“You’ve had a doughnut that cost five thousand dollars.” Peter pointed out. 

“And this is marginally worse.” Neal teased. 

Peter smiled, his spirits greatly improved by the tiny amount of banter. Even if Neal’s levity was a facade for Elizabeth’s sake it was a vast improvement that he was at least making the effort to act like himself again. Enjoying a moment without conflict they both managed to finish the artificial tasting drink. Peter was contemplating trying something that actually required chewing when he and Neal were both visibly startled by Elizabeth’s cell phone ringing. 

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth apologized “it’s probably Mozzie.” 

Peter worried that Satchmo had torn apart half the house looking for his lost pack mates by now. It was hard to blame the loyal animal for being so distraught since he couldn’t possibly understand what had become of his humans. Elizabeth brought out her phone and a range of distressing emotions quickly clouded her features before she shut off the ringer and put the phone back in her purse without answering it. 

“Elizabeth?” Peter asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can tell you.” Elizabeth said sadly. 

“Is that Walker calling you?” Neal asked alarmed. 

“No.” Elizabeth shook her head. 

“But it’s something related to him?” Peter asked. 

“Yes.” Elizabeth replied quietly. 

“Then you’re right, we can’t talk about it.”

“Peter!” Neal admonished. “You can’t ser…”

“Neal, enough.” Peter interrupted. 

“Peter, I’m sorry.” Elizabeth said sounding miserable. “I never should have let hi…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Peter said firmly. “We are going to figure all of this out, and if this ‘Walker’ is guilty there is no way you could have known.”

“Peter’s right.” Neal added sympathetically. “It would have made perfect sense for Walker to talk to you, he has the perfect cover.”

“What?” Peter asked shocked. “Neal, what did you just say?”

“What?” Neal said feigning innocents after realizing his mistake. 

“What cover? You said you didn’t know the circumstances. How has that changed?”

“Peter, calm down…” 

“It was Mozzie wasn’t it?” Peter accused. 

“Peter…”

“Neal, it is *pointless* for you to try and lie about this,” Peter snarled “it isn’t going to help our case one bit!” 

“Of course it will.”

“No. The question here isn’t going to be if I can identify Walker, it’s going to be if a jury believes me or if they think I’m just making it up to protect the FBI from his lawsuit or if I’m doing it out of some deranged revenge for him approaching Elizabeth. Having you point your finger at him as well won’t help.”

“Peter…”

“If a jury doesn’t believe me, they are never going to believe you.”

Peter regretted his word the moment he said them as Neal’s expression quickly degraded from shocked hurt into an sullen angry bitterness.

“Neal, I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s fine, Peter.” Neal said coldly. “I understand. You’re a Federal Agent, I’m just a criminal.”

“Neal, no, I just meant…”

Peter was interrupted as Hughes suddenly announced himself outside the door. Peter wanted to fix the damage he had just done but Neal found his voice around others as he told Hughes he could come in. Hughes stepped inside followed closely by a well built blonde haired man that Peter recognized as Agent Walsh from Violent Crimes. Walsh had a black binder tucked under his arm that Peter guessed was a photo line up. Neal went over to the couch, sitting down heavily he stared vacantly at the floor. Elizabeth put her hand over Peter’s supportively. Knowing why Agent Walsh was here Peter decided to focus on him for now. 

“Peter?” Hughes asked sensing the tension in the room. 

“Good morning, Sir.” Peter greeted professionally. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Please tell me Liam is earning a Meritorious Achievement Medal for everything he’s done for Neal and I.”

“The paperwork is already in and sure to be approved.” Hughes assured. 

“Thank you.” Peter turned to the other Agent. “Hello again, Agent Walsh.”

“You remember me?” Walsh asked surprised. 

“I do. I consulted you on the Machlis case.”

“That was seven years ago.” Walsh smiled. 

“Peter never forgets a face.” Elizabeth noted. 

“I certainly hope that’s true.” Walsh nodded. “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed I’m here to go over some photos with you, Agent Burke. Is now a good time?”

“As good as it’s going to get.” 

“Okay, good, we really do need to move quickly on all this.” Walsh turned to Elizabeth with a guilty look. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Burke, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside for this. Agent Hughes just to make sure everything is on the up and up you should go to.”

Peter squeezed Elizabeth’s hand before releasing her. She looked over concerned at Neal but didn’t say anything. Peter knew she must feel guilty for somewhat starting the argument but it wasn’t her fault. Hughes escorted Elizabeth out into the hall. Peter’s stomach twisted as Walsh turned his attention on Neal. 

“Mr. Caffrey,” Walsh addressed Neal respectfully “I don’t think anyone has officially asked you if you can identify your kidnapper. So I am officially asking you now.”

Peter held his breath praying that Neal would make the right decision. As much as Peter knew it was going to be difficult to find peace if York went free he wasn’t sure he would be able to forgive Neal if he lied now. Avoiding eye contact with either man Neal dragged his right hand though his hair as his left still refused to lift up high enough to mirror the action. Despite everything Peter had said Neal seemed to still deeply believe that his forged testimony could help sway a jury.

“Mr. Caffrey?” Walsh prompted. “Did you ever see your captor?”

“…no.”

Peter breathed an audible sigh of relief. Knowing he was no longer welcome in the room and not wanting to stay anyway Neal got to his feet and headed directly for the door.

“Neal,” Peter said warmly “thank you.”

Neal glanced back at Peter with his angry frustration still painted across his battered face. He looked like he wanted to say something but he kept it to himself, without any further word he left. Peter sighed, he was relieved that Neal hadn’t gone along with his plan but he worried that the conflict had still done a great deal of harm. Agent Walsh gave Peter a moment before stepping closer to the bed. 

“I’m sorry, Agent Burke, I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you both. We all want justice here and I’m sure it frustrates Caffrey to not be able to help.”

“Do you have anything on Walker?” Peter asked. 

“Not yet.” Walsh said as he held out the book to Peter. 

Walsh reached into his pocket and brought out a small recorder that he clicked on and recorded his own name, the date, time, and Peter’s name and title. Taking the book Peter started to leaf through the twelve men they had chosen to hide Walker among. All the men were of the right age as York and all of he same general build with slight variations on his hair color. However when Peter turned to the sixth page he didn’t have to go any further. Nothing about the bright painted on smile that the man in the photo wore could hide the coldness in his eyes. The fact that York was in this book at all proved that it was indeed Walker. Part of Peter had been hoping that he wouldn’t be here to spare Elizabeth the pain of having let him into their home. On the other hand now they knew what they were dealing with. Peter tapped on the page and looked up at Walsh. 

“That’s him. Number six.”

“Are you sure?” Agent Walsh asked as per protocol. “Do you want to look at the others?”

“No. Six.”

“Thank you, Agent Burke.” Agent Walsh smiled as he clicked the tape recorder off. “This is still going to be an uphill battle, but at least with this we will breeze through the preliminary hearing and we will go to trial.” 

“You were good on the Machlis case, I trust you with mine.”

“We aren’t going to rest until we get this guy. The real challenge if we go to court on just your testimony is going to be convincing a jury that the FBI can be trusted in a political environment where public opinion of the Bureau isn’t exactly at its highest.” Agent Walsh admitted. “People love to find conspiracy in everything these days particularly when it comes to government. Walker’s lawyer are going to try an paint him as a victim of an Agency looking to avoid embarrassment by placing blame.”

“No.” Peter said confidently. “He’s a predator, just like every other dangerous animal he won’t be able to hide what he is once he’s dragged out of the shadows and into the light.”

“True.” Walsh nodded but didn’t look all that convinced. “I wish Caffrey had seen something, at least we could have played the ‘independent third party’ card. Although I should just be grateful that Walker screwed up enough to let you see him.”

“He assumed I was already dead.”

“I like criminals who underestimate us, they’re easier to catch.”

Peter nodded in agreement. He was not looking forward to the trial or facing York/Walker again, but he was prepare to keep fighting. Walsh reached back out to turn the tape recorder back on to ask some more questions but he was stopped when there was a commotion outside the room. Peter was already getting to his feet when Agent Ryans peeked in the room.

“Agent Burke, we need your help next door. Caffrey is trying to sign out AMA.”

“What? He can’t just leave.”

“I know, but…maybe you’d better tell him?”

Peter’s stomach twisted painfully, Neal was already upset with him and it wasn’t going to help to be telling him that he wasn’t free to leave. Stepping out into the hall Peter blinked painfully at the slightly brighter light out in the rest of the CCU. Inviting himself into Neal’s room Peter found him pacing restless and panting heavily for breath in the grip of a panic attack. Glancing over at Peter Neal shook his head like a temperamental child.

“Neal…”

“Peter, no, I…I have to get out of here.” Neal said breathlessly as he continued to pace. “I did what you asked, I’m trusting the system, but I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get out, I want to go home.”

“Neal, it’s not that simple.” Peter said carefully.

“The doctor’s can’t keep me here.”

“True, but…”

“I’m not going to get better here, I can’t keep sleeping on the floor with you, it isn’t good for either of us. I can’t stand the walls any long, I’ve been inside for too long. I’m leaving.”

“You can’t go, Neal. You’re acting delusional again.”

“I’m not delusional, I’m just tired of being held prisoner!”

“Give me forty-eight hours. Please.” Peter bargained. “Stay with me here for two more days and I’ll get everything sorted out, I promise.”

“Sorted out?” Neal questioned. “What are you talking about?”

“Just trust me.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m going.” Neal insisted. “They can’t hold me here.”

“Neal…”

“It’s my health, Peter, it’s my decision.”

“It is absolutely your right to sign out of here medically and stop treatment,” Peter hesitated before continuing knowing how devastating his next words were going to be “but there’s no point because the FBI is still not going to let you leave.”

“What? Why not?”

“…because you don’t have your anklet.”


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter Seventy-one

"You can do this, deep breath, just a quick trip."

Muttering to himself Jake stood at the bottom of a rusty ladder that lead up into the upper subway system. Despite years of dreaming about nothing more than being on the surface Jake now found that it was the last place he wanted to be. After losing the FBI Agents that had chased after him Jake had made his way up to the street level in hopes of seeing the sky only to have been painfully blinded by it. Slinking back into the darkness it had been hours before he'd been able to see again.

Going out at night hadn't been much better with the harsh glare of the headlights and certain store fronts that lit themselves up brighter than the day itself. Eventually one of the back packs Jake had stolen provided him with a pair of sunglasses. They weren't enough to keep him safe during the day but at least they let him roam the streets at night. Steeling up his courage Jake climbed the ladder and made his way through a maintenance area to the station platform. Jake's heart pounded at the handful of people who were waiting for the next train but none of them seemed to notice him. In fact as he moved towards the exit he noticed how people went out of their way to avoid looking at him, probably assuming he would ask them for money if they inadvertently made eye contact with him through the dark glasses.

Leaving the subway system Jake senses were instantly overwhelmed by the busy street. He gripped the strap of the backpack he was wearing as he swallowed hard to quell the eel in his stomach. As much as he enjoyed the fresh air and cool night breeze he couldn't keep from panicking from the sheer amount of people that crowded the city and worse yet the noise that they made. The noise of the city was nearly as hard to bear at the lights as the city honked, buzzed, rang, shouted, and clamored around him. Frozen at the top of the subway stairs Jake almost lost his courage to go out into the sea of humanity. However his stomach growled painfully to remind him to press on. He had spent the last few days living like a rat, dashing out from the nest he had built to steal before returning to the safety of his underground base but he had come to a point where he needed to venture out further.

Having no fear of jumping down onto the tracks and running off into the tunnels Jake had been fairly successful at snatching purses and packs from commuters. With a pocket full of cash Jake was on a mission to get a few provisions that he wasn't likely to come across in any of the pockets he picked. With no idea which part of the city he was in Jake just picked a random direction and headed down the street with his head bowed. Jake had no doubt that every cop in the city was probably under orders to keep their eye out for him, but in the city of millions he felt he wouldn't be easy to spot as long as he kept his distance.

Unable to handle the anxiety produced by the throng of people on the main street he'd been traveling on Jake decided to take a chance on turning down one of the less busy side streets. He was looking for a drug store or general market but so far all the ones he had come to were lit up so brightly he didn't dare go inside. Beyond the pain of the well lit stores he worried that walking into any of them in the state he was in would instantly cause anyone who worked there to call the authorities. Without access to running water or fresh clothes he was quickly becoming filthy and the sunglasses at night didn't help make him look trustworthy. To complicate matters the weeping brand over his heart that had turned septic had a powerful stench to it that was starting to cause people to look around in alarm if he stayed in one place too long. Focusing on getting this trip over with rather than where he was actually going Jake knocked into a large man who had been walking in the opposite direction.

"Watch it, Corey Hart." The man sneered before shoving Jake back.

The explosion of pain caused by the man's hand against his chest turned Jake's vision red and before he even registered what had happened Jake lashed out at the larger man. Despite his size and aggressive attitude Jake dropped him to the sidewalk with a single well placed punch to the face. Hearing a shout of alarm from someone behind him Jake jumped over the man who was writhing on the sidewalk clutching his bleeding face and ran. Uncertain of how far the good samaritans would chase him Jake just ran blindly. Getting short breath after a few blocks Jake ducked down a narrow alley back behind some restaurants.

Crouching down on the far side of a dumpster Jake did his best to keep from retching as the exertion crashed against his fear and strained his infection weakened body. Jake jolted and clamped his hands over his ears as a nearby ambulance turned on its siren and wailed past the alley in a cacophony of sound and flashing lights. Over stimulated Jake weld his eyes shut and shook as he pressed his back against the dumpster. The ambulance passed quickly and the alley fell relatively silent again but Jake was left shaking. Working to calm himself Jake tried looking up at the night sky but the lack of stars in the city just made the light polluted void look like a wall of looming stone.

_"I would have helped you, if you hadn't left Peter to die. But you're alone now and you'll get no mercy from me now."_

"Neal?"

Confused Jake opened his eyes and looked around the dirty abandoned ally. Finding himself alone Jake shook his head to try and clear it. Even realizing Neal had just been a figment of his imagination Jake knew he was right. He shouldn't have run, he had no where and no one to turn to, but it was too late now. Grinding his teeth together Jake decided that he wouldn't even be in this situation if it hadn't been for Neal and Peter. Before them he may have been a captive but at least he had power and they had taken that from him. With a new resolve to gain some sense of control back Jake got back to his feet and continued on his mission.

The end of the alley lead to a seedy run down part of the city that Jake felt more comfortable in. Most of the people wandering the streets here were just as dirty and aimless as he was. Coming to a small general store that had bars on the windows Jake stepped inside. Gathering an odd mix of items Jake brought them up to the front of the store and purchased them with the crinkled wad of money he had stuffed in his pocket. The clerk didn't ask any questions and just took the bills and started smoothing them out against the corner of the counter with a practiced hand.

Not wanting to wait for change Jake just scooped the goods into his back pack and left. Retracing his steps wasn't easy now that he had to avoid the block where he'd assaulted the man in fear that police might be on the scene now. Getting a little turned around Jake worried that he might not make it back to the off shoot of abandoned tunnels that he'd been calling home. Walking briskly Jake eventually started seeing some familiar sights and soon he was back on his new home turf. He had been careful not to steal too close to home so he felt relatively safe as he used one of his stolen Metrocards to gain access to the platform.

It was getting late and there wasn't anyone waiting on the platform making it easier to disappear into the rarely used maintenance room that offered him access to the back tunnels. It was a bit of hike through the graffiti laced tunnels and then down into areas that even the taggers didn't dare tread, but Jake was used to this kind of maze and he easily found his way back to the small abandoned boiler room that he'd set himself up in. Jake knew he couldn't stay in any one place too long but he was confident he'd find another shelter without any trouble. The under side of New York was so riddled with forgotten holes and empty spaces that Jake was surprised that the whole city didn't collapse into its rotting foundation.

Sitting down Jake took a few deep breaths before settling. Feeling infinitely more comfortable hidden back underground Jake rummaged through the goods he had purchased. Cracking open a bottle of vanilla Ensure he quickly drank it down. Unlike Neal and Peter who had developed an aversion to the thick drink it gave Jake a sense of normalcy. Pulling out the bottle of bottom shelf vodka he'd purchased also went a long way towards calming his nerves.

Taking a heavy pull on the vodka Jake put it down so he could take off his grimy black shirt. The cotton was stuck to the gory brand causing him to growl in pain as he pulled it free. Still not able to bring himself to look at the damning mark Jake picked the vodka back up and poured it over the infected burn. The acid sting of the vodka was enough to bring him to tears as he panted against the pain. He thought that he was treating his infection with the harsh alcohol unaware that he was actually just doing more harm by killing the healthy cells with the caustic liquid. Draining another quarter of the bottle Jake closed his eyes and purred in contentment that had been brought on by the drunk stupor that washed over him.

A quiet stifled weeping interrupted Jake's peaceful moment. Opening his eyes Jake looked over at the man in the near by corner who had been trying desperately to keep quiet but had become too emotional to fight his tears any longer. The well dressed young businessman had his bright red tie wedged between his teeth in a makeshift gag and his wrists bound behind him to a utility pipe that was set against the wall. Although Jake hadn't gotten any useful conversation out of him according to his wallet his name was Ethan.

With his eyes tightly shut Ethan pulled his knees towards his chest as he shivered uncontrollably. Studying his captive Jake smiled as he took another shot from the bottle. Getting to his feet Jake approached him with a bit of a stagger. Hearing his captor approach Ethan yelped and curled up tighter as he tried to stop his tears, having learned from experience how much the sound annoyed Jake. Ignoring the mewling Jake grabbed the man's knees and forced his legs down so that he could sit on his hips. Sucking for breath Ethan yanked useless at the strong plastic ties keeping his wrists trapped. Ethan froze when Jake carded his hand into his dark hair and leaned in close.

"Open your eyes." Jake demanded quietly.

Reaching his breaking point Ethan screamed senselessly through the gag. Knowing that no one was going to hear his muffled cries Jake allowed him the cathartic expression. Realizing help wasn't coming Ethan broke down into tears again. He still had his eyes closed more out of trying to shut out what was happening rather than being belligerent to Jake's request. Growing impatient with Ethan's cowardice Jake increased his grip on his hair to make sure he had his attention.

"Look at me!"

Biting down on his gag as he whimpered in terror Ethan finally forced his eyes open revealing their striking blue color.


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter Seventy-two

_"I saved your life!"_

_"Neal, if you just gi…"_

_"What more could the FBI *possibly* want from me?! What more do I have to do to prove myself?!"_

_"Neal, please, cal…"_

Neal's next words to Peter although understandably spoken in frustration and anger had effectively ended the argument. Neal had flashed Peter a horrified look when he realized what he had just said, but he didn't offer any apologies. Needing to step away before he said something he would regret Peter just left to give them both some space. It was difficult to tell if Neal had just been upset or if he was teetering on the edge of a true psychotic break at finding himself a prisoner of the windowless hospital room. In either case Peter found he didn't have the emotional strength to deal with it right now and he had retreated to his own room.

"Don't be too hard on him." Peter repeated Liam's advice to himself. "…or yourself."

Sitting up in bed with a heavy heart Peter was having a hard time with following either half of Liam's words of wisdom. He hated himself for just leaving Neal for the other Agents to deal with, but he knew from experience that right now the only direction any conversation with Neal could go was down hill fast. Neal was so heart over head that any time Peter let his own emotions get too involved it always ended in causing a rift between them. For now Peter worked on finding comfort in the fact that they had always managed to mend all their broken fences in the past. Hopefully once Neal had a chance to calm down he'd realize that he did still need medical attention. As for getting him off his anklet Peter wasn't confident that right now was the best time for Neal to be set free on his own recognizance afraid that on his own Neal might be tempted to seek a sense of normalcy by returning to his old lifestyle in a reckless attempt to forget about his new demons. At the same time if anyone had earned an early release it was Neal. The final decision wasn't really Peter's to make but there was a good chance that the board would be asking his opinion on it soon and Peter was going to have to choose between what might be best for Neal and what was morally right.

Finding himself with a heavy heart and a painful stomach Peter just stared at the far wall blankly while he waited for Elizabeth to return. Mozzie had called for help when Satchmo wouldn't let him into the house. Having abruptly lost his pack Satchmo apparently had taken it upon himself to defend the home. Elizabeth had felt terrible about leaving Peter so soon after his argument with Neal but he assured her that he was okay and that Satchmo was an important family member who needed her right now. Needing a chance to get a change of clothes anyway Elizabeth agreed and promised to be back soon.

Peter wished that he could have just gone home with her, but even though unlike Neal he could technically leave AMA he wasn't about to. Sympathizing with Neal's point of view Peter was starting to feel like a prisoner here himself even if it was just his own moral code and common sense keeping him under medical care. Peter looked over towards the door hopefully when there was motion at the curtain over the door. When Agent Walsh peeked in with a friendly smile Peter couldn't help the apprehensive look he gave him. He knew it was too soon for Elizabeth to be back but he had hoped it was Neal having calmed down and coming to talk.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Agent Walsh asked apologetically.

"No, it's fine." Peter lied. "Come in, Agent Walsh."

"Please call me Alan."

"Peter." Peter said to let Walsh know he was okay with the informal address as well. "How can help you?"

"I just have a few questions." Walsh said. "We are trying to piece things together on our own to give you some time to recover, but we have some road blocks."

"I do plan to write a report soon, I know it's important to do it when things are fresh but I've had other concerns."

"Very understandable. I didn't think about an official report, but I suppose you were on duty when you were taken so everything that happened would fall under proper procedure."

"York took my badge but I was still a Federal Agent."

"You still are." Walsh smiled.

"Did you find my badge?"

"We did." Walsh nodded. "Sadly the only fingerprints on it are yours."

"Not a surprise." Peter sighed as he felt a sudden tightening in his chest. "Alan, I know I said this was a good time, but honestly I'm not sure I'm up for making an official statement right now."

"I'm actually not here for an official statement. I just came to sort a few things out…Agent to Agent."

Peter knew it wasn't entirely appropriate to be talking to Walsh about what happened off record but at the same time Walsh's tone suggested that it would be wise to hear him out. When Peter didn't protest Walsh accepted it as permission to keep talking.

"I've been down through what Caffrey labeled as 'The Labyrinth', I've got to admit I…I'm at a bit of a loss for words."

"It was a nightmare."

"I can't even imagine. We found what looks like a ring and combined with the physical evidence on both you and Caffrey we've come to the conclusion that you forced into fighting for spectator entertainment?"

"Yes." Peter replied solemnly looking down at the scars and wounds across his knuckles. "I did what I could to keep from participating but…"

"It's okay," Walsh said when Peter hesitated "you did what you had to survive."

Peter nodded appreciating that Walsh was only looking for broad strokes and not details. There was going to come a point when both himself and Neal were going to have to recount everything that happened in an official statement, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"I can't believe that we didn't even have rumors of a place like this even existing." Walsh continued sounding frustrated. "I know the FBI can't keep track of everything, but you'd think some criminal scum would have squealed on the massive underground fight club to use as leverage."

"York ruled with a terrifying combination of fear and loyalty."

"Yeah, several of the men without brands that we came across during the raid fought to the death and the ones we took alive aren't talking. I'm hoping that will change when we actually take Walker to court."

"I doubt that it will. He was skilled with maintaining a strong psychological hold on people. Speaking of which, have you found out anything about Jake?"

"Quite a bit, none of which that is actually helping us locate him though." Walsh admitted. "Through fingerprints we were able to figure out his name is Jacob Tulie, son of Gloria Tulie she died of a drug over dose when he was six, his father is 'unknown'. Jake bounced around the foster system as a difficult case until he eventually ended up in Juvie for a B and E. He applied for the Army at 21 but didn't pass his ASVAB or psych tests, after that he pops up now and then for minor offenses for a few years before disappearing off public record completely. Never had an official residence, driver's license, or even a credit card."

"When was he reported missing?"

"He wasn't."

"What?"

"Jake isn't in the National Missing Persons Database. Likely he didn't have anyone in his life that bothered to a file a report."

"He never had a chance, did he?" Peter sighed.

"It's sad to say but there are cracks in society, sometimes people fall through them."

"We have to find him. Jake is going to hurt someone. He's going to get lonely and afraid and when that happen he's going to look for a way to gain control in the only way he knows how. He tortured Neal because he wanted to interact with him and he didn't know how to do so without violence."

"We are doing everything we can but finding someone like Jake in the network of tunnels under the city is like chasing a rabbit through a brier patch." Walsh said before looking around as if double checking that they were alone. "But...Jake isn't why I'm here."

"Why are you here?" Peter asked when Walsh didn't continue.

"Ballistics just came back on a body found in the Labyrinth with a gun shot to the chest…"

"His name was Danisko. I shot him." Peter supplied freely. "Further forensics will show he has Neal's blood all over him. Danisko was going to murder Neal, I stopped him."

"How did you gain access to your weapon?"

"York…Walker gave it to me. He set Danisko on Neal in the Ring to force me into protecting him with lethal force."

"This is good." Walsh mused in obvious relief of the explanation before flashing Peter an embarrassed look. "I'm sorry, that sounded awful."

"It did."

"I just meant that this will make a good narrative for the trial, it paints you in a very good light. You could have used that bullet on revenge against your captor instead you used it to save a friend. The jury is already going to be very sympathetic towards Caffrey, he's a classic victim and an attractive one at that, this is going to help them connect with you more as well."

"I hate that we are building this case by finding ways to manipulate a jury into believing me."

"I know, but that's how the system in cases like this works." Walsh said with a shrug. "This should be open and shut, but due to Walker's influence it's going to be one hell of a fight. Walker is already fully lawyered up and out on bail."

"What?" Peter asked shocked as his heart rate spiked. "They let him post bail in a Federal case like this?"

"Walker has friends in high places, very high places."

"Where's my wife? Where's Elizabeth?" Peter asked anxiously. "She should be back by now."

"Easy, Agent, Walker isn't going to come after either of you, not now that we are watching him."

"You don't know that!" Peter snarled. "He thinks he's above the law and he's starting to prove that maybe he is!"

"No one is above the law, Peter, some people are just harder to prosecute than others. Walker might have gotten away with stealing criminals and orphaned psychopaths off the street for years, but he is not prepared for the heat we are going to bring on him for messing with a Federal Agent."

"Jake and others deserve justice just as much as I do."

"And thanks to you they'll get it."

Peter took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. Becoming so easily shaken wasn't like him and wasn't going to help anyone or their case against Walker. Deciding that now was a good time for full disclosure Peter had one more piece of information for Walsh.

"When the ballistics come back on Sawyer and the men with him you'll probably find they were executed with my weapon as well but I wasn't there."

"Can you tell me a little bit more about that?" Walsh asked.

Peter didn't like the phrasing or the tone Walsh had used for his inquiry. It was the kind of vague leading type question that Peter would use if he was trying to catch someone who didn't know they were a suspect in a lie. With nothing to hide about Sawyer Peter told an abbreviated version of his encounters with Sawyer up to the point where York had him killed to keep him safe. Walsh listened with a practiced expressionless face. When Peter was done Walsh thought over the new information for a moment.

"You don't have any first hand knowledge of the killings? You didn't see any of the bodies?"

"No. It's all second hand information. Did you not find them?"

"We only found Sawyer's body, we didn't know he had 'friends' so to speak. Could you identify the men with Sawyer?"

"Yes."

"That could be very useful. They could be in custody and if facing aggravated assault against a Federal Agent they may turn on Walker."

"Did Walker use my weapon on Sawyer?" Peter asked not sure he wanted to hear the answer. He hated the idea of the gun that had kept him safe for years being used in a murder but he needed to know.

"No." Walsh answered looking a little uncomfortable.

"What happened to him?"

"Um…" Walsh hesitated. "Don't worry about it."

"Agent Walsh, what happened to Sawyer?"

"He…uh…was left bound and gagged. Walker must have made it clear that anyone who released him would suffer worse. Sawyer died of dehydration."

"Wha…no, Jake told me Walker sho…" Peter stopped when he couldn't remember Jake's exact words. "I could have helped him…"

"Sawyer was determined to kill you."

"That doesn't mean I'd leave him to die slowly!"

"No, I didn't mean that at all." Walsh corrected quickly. "I meant that it could have been dangerous for you to help him. I shouldn't have even told you, in fact you need to just forget we had this conversation. Can you do that?"

Peter didn't answer, he had lost focus on what Walsh was saying as his stomach twisted painfully and his blood started to run cold. The longer he talked about York and the Labyrinth the more anxious he had become but this new information was truly sickening. Peter had taken it for granted that York had shot Sawyer, but thinking back Jake had simply assured him that if York and Sawyer had a disagreement that York would have killed him. Peter had been so concerned with helping Neal get through the night that it hadn't occurred to him to confirm Sawyer's fate and Sawyer had suffered cruelly because of it.

"Peter?" Walsh asked gently. "Peter, it's okay. No one is blames you for Sawyer's death."

Peter just nodded knowing that under the conditions he couldn't have been expected to predict how York would turn on Sawyer, but he was still struggling to not blame himself. Walsh tried to offer him a few more consoling words but he could tell he was just making things worse. Excusing himself from the room Walsh made a promise that he would find Jake before leaving. Left alone Peter's guilt over Sawyer's difficult end turned to anxiety over how easily Walker could have forced that same fate on himself and Neal. He shook his head trying to stop himself from imagining a scenario where he would have had to watch Neal slowly succumb to thirst. Becoming increasingly agitated Peter clenched his teeth as bile jumped to the back of his throat.

With his stomach fully revolting on him Peter scrambled to get out of bed and into the bathroom. Dropping to knees in the bathroom Peter was violently ill. Still only eating liquids most of what came up was bile causing him to gag further on the acrid taste. Beginning to dry heave unproductively Peter fought to regain control. Eventually managing to calm his stomach he sat back on the cold floor with a throbbing headache. Peter dragged his forearm across his mouth to try to wipe away the foul taste. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths before getting back to his feet.

Stepping into the room Peter jerked back when he found a nurse standing in the room checking in on him. Not in the mood to deal with the nurse Peter just waved her away. Standing in the bathroom doorway looking around at the small CCU room Peter felt an all too familiar claustrophobia pressing in on him. Unable to bear the thought of going back to bed Peter wandered over to the corner and sat on the floor.

Peter knew he had to stop seeking the comfort of having his back to the wall but right now he just needed something to get him through until Elizabeth returned. Alone with his thoughts Peter's mind instantly drifted back to his argument with Neal. As much as he didn't want to be alone right now he couldn't imagine facing Neal right now either. With no good options he swallowed against the continued taste of bile as just waited the anxiety attack out.

Peter didn't blame Neal for wanting to leave the hospital in a desperate attempt to distance himself from his mental pain, he didn't even blame him for being angry when he learned he wasn't free to go. Between his original sentence, his time with the FBI, and his time in the Labyrinth it had been nearly a decade since Neal had any kind of control over his life. Peter understood that Neal had struggled for a long time to prove to others and more importantly to himself that he could be something other than a con. However even understanding all of Neal's pain and frustration his words had still cut Peter right down to the marrow and were preventing him from seeking his friend's help in this moment of need.

_'What more could the FBI *possibly* want from me?! What more do I have to do to prove myself?!'_

_'Neal, please…'_

_'I wonder if York would have bothered to brand me for life if he'd known you'd beaten him to it!'_


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been meaning to post this picture by Kanarek13 ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/13933650 )for several chapters but I kept forgetting. :) It wasn't done specifically for Labyrinth...but I feel it really works for it, particularly a few chapters back but for more in the future I'm sure. Hugs to Kanarek13, one of her pictures got this story started nearly two years ago! 
> 
>  

Chapter Seventy-three

Oscillating between anger and anxiety Neal paced his makeshift cell in an ever tightening pattern until he was basically just shifting his weight back and forth as he drew nearer to psychosis. He had been desperate to leave the hospital before but now it was becoming a frantic obsession as he saw it as his only release from the pain that had followed him out of the Labyrinth. The doctor had briefly returned after Peter had left to continue to try and talk him out of signing out against medical advice since he couldn't leave anyway. Wanting to be left alone Neal had physically bared his teeth at her like a junkyard dog. Hearing Neal loud and clear she had retreated. Neal knew the doctor was only trying to help, but he didn't want help right now, he wanted to go home. It didn't even occur to him that he couldn't hide so easily from his trauma, he was too fixated on being anywhere other than here.

_'You should just go.'_ Jake purred in Neal's ear. _'You escaped Federal Prison and the Labyrinth…I bet you could walk right out of here if you tried.'_

Determined to ignore the hallucination Neal weld his eyes shut even though Jake had only been auditory this time. He thought lancing the wound would fix his issues with Jake, but the infection was still in his blood and he was currently missing his IV antibiotics by being unwilling to allow the staff near him once again. Finding claustrophobia crushing in on him even just in the darkness of his own eyelids Neal snapped his eyes back open. Confronted by a very convincing illusion of Jake standing in front of him Neal jumped back. Panting for breath Neal shook his head as he took another step back towards the corner.

"Go away." Neal whispered.

_'Make me._ ' Jake sneered.

"How?"

_'Call that Doc back in here, I bet she's got something that could make me go away. Assuming you haven't alienated her the way you did with Peter.'_

"That wasn't my fault…"

_'Of course not. It's never your fault is it, Neal? There's always someone to blame with you, always some rationalization for your lies.'_ Jake put his hands on his hips the way Peter often did as he looked Neal up and down. _'Neal, has it ever occurred to you that you might be a psychopath?'_

"Look who's talking!" Neal snapped.

_'You, you're talking…to yourself.'_ Jake pointed out seriously.

"Go away."

_'Think about it, you check a lot of the boxes: charming, easily bored, conning, impulsive, an impressive criminal resume, a callous lack of empathy…'_

"I do not lack empathy." Neal said defensively unable to deny the rest of the list.

_'Really?'_ Jake asked doubtfully. _'Comparing Peter to York? That was ice cold, Neal, arctic. You couldn't have hurt him more if you'd lashed out and struck him in the throat.'_

"I didn't mea…"

' _And do you feel guilty for saying it or are you angry?'_

"I just want to go home." Neal whimpered.

_'That's not the point. Peter was a messenger and you shot him in the chest.'_

"No, no, he's more than a messenger." Neal shook his head angrily. "He doesn't trust me."

' _He doesn't trust you with his wallet…but he trusts you with his life. He's killed for you and how have you repaid him? By pushing him away when he needs you most.'_

Proving Jake's theory about being a psychopath wrong Neal's stomach twisted in guilt. He knew that Peter couldn't possibly have control over how the FBI handled his sentence, but his statement had come from a deeper problem than just being held at the hospital. Gritting his teeth in renewed anger Neal narrowed his eyes at Jake causing the image of him to flicker slightly.

"Peter trusts me with his life, but he doesn't trust me with mine!"

_'Then leave him.'_

"I…I…" Neal hesitated the way he always did when Mozzie tried to court him away from Peter.

_'You want full control over your own life? You'll never get that if you keep Peter around. I think we both know that you can't change, but Peter is incapable of it as well. He will never be able to stop trying to save you from yourself no matter what you do. How many 'second' chances has he given you? Even after you almost got his wife killed. Talk about insanity, he keeps doing the same thing with you over and over again expecting that one day you'll suddenly be more than just a con.'_

"I am more." Neal countered little conviction in his voice.

_'No you're not. You can't lie to me, I am you.'_

Jake reached up and dragged his hands through his hair causing it darken as lengthen as he morphed into an image of Neal back before he had any of the Labyrinth scars. Neal found himself far more terrified of the vision of himself as 'he' smiled at him mischievously. Confronted by the one person he could never lie to Neal backed away from him in terror until he was up against the corner. Exhausted from stress Neal sank to the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest in hopes that his demons would take pity on him and leave him alone. Jake in his new form just stared down at Neal in disgust. Resting against the wall that separated him from Peter's room Neal knit his brow at the muffled sound of Peter being sick.

_'He really is a monster for caring about what happens to us, isn't he?'_ Neal's mirror mocked in Jake's voice. _'How dare he never give up on us and believe in us more than anybody does...more than we believe in ourselves.'_

Feeling himself being driven mad by the increasingly intense hallucination and his emotional conflict over Peter Neal curled up tighter as tears traced down his face. He wanted to let Peter help him be a better man he just wished it didn't come at the cost of always being held to an impossibly high standard that Peter at times fell short of himself. Neal didn't want a mile from Peter but he needed more than an inch. Next door Peter continued to struggle with his stomach to the point that Neal worried that he might actually be in serious trouble. Neal was about to call out for help on Peter's behalf when the retching stopped followed by a weary sigh.

Heavy hearted Neal wanted to go talk to Peter but he didn't know what he would say. He wanted to apologize but he also felt that he deserved one himself. Knowing that wasn't likely to happen Neal wasn't sure how they were going to be able to move forward after this. Miserable that he may have broken yet another meaningful relationship Neal rested his chin on his knees and stared at the floor. In the end he always managed to push everyone away or for one reason or another they simply left him. As much as he loved Kate he still questioned if she ever really felt the same. Alex had always just assumed he was using her since she was using him. He had thought for a moment that he had a real future with Sara until he'd shattered her trust with the stolen treasure that he had never really wanted in the first place but somehow couldn't let go of once he had it. Even though he had eventually come back Mozzie had abandoned him when he couldn't pick a side as well and it he still continually tried to make Neal choose. Peter more than anyone had proven he was willing to stick through the bad and continue to try to see the good in him, but that might have finally ended as well now.

The idea of losing Peter hurt all that much more after depending so heavily on him over the past few months and having managed to actually make to the other side of that nightmare because of one another. Peter had said that the Labyrinth had made the two of them family and Neal knew that Peter had meant that at the time, but he wondered if it could ever really be realistic for them to be brothers. The Labyrinth had stripped away the power imbalance between them allowing them to just be there for one another, but now that they were back on the surface it felt like they had returned to their respective worlds along with all the conflict that caused.

With his mood spiraling downward and his anxiety peaking Neal was starting to consider calling for the doctor to ask for a sedative. If he couldn't escape his pain physically it might be worthwhile to take a break from it mentally for a while by seeking solace in pharmaceuticals. Neal knew that his addictive personality made taking medication to dull his senses a slippery slope, but he wasn't sure he cared anymore. Still undecided about what to do Neal jerked hard enough to slam the back of his head into the wall when a alarming tone went off instantaneously followed by a flurry of activity out in the hall.

"Get the crash cart!" Dr. Azarov's barked above the general commotion.

Neal's heart slammed against his chest hard enough for him to worry for a split second that he might need that crash cart himself. Neal's thoughts instantly went to Peter having snapped his recently mended ribs while vomiting and somehow sending him into cardiac arrest. Scrambling to his feet Neal tripped in his rush to get the door and crashed to the floor. His fall was accompanied by a sharp pain in his side where Liam had lanced the abscess. Ignoring the wet feeling that soaked his scrubs Neal fought to get back to his feet. His tortured and strained body wasn't responding well now that he was adding panic to the mix.

Getting to the doorway he had to hold onto it to keep from falling again as nausea washed over him. The hallway consisted of two distinct brands of chaos. There was the organized professional rush of the staff members, and then there was the helpless concern of the three Agents trying to figure out what was happen while also trying to make sure they stayed out of the way. Agent Walsh was in a particularly wound up state as he paced side to side a few steps in anxious agitation.

"No, no, please, please tell me I didn't kill him." Walsh muttered to himself. "Please…"

Stepping out in to the hall in almost a dazed shock Neal just watched the scene, unable to process the worst case scenario that might be currently unfolding. As much as Neal complained about Peter's expectations of him being to high he was also the only one who ever even considered that Neal could do better, not to mention one of the few people in his life who truly cared if he lived or died. Unable to even think about what he would do if Peter died Neal was stuck on the thought of his last words to him. His delusion of Jake had been right, he couldn't have hurt Peter more with physical violence. The way he had backed away in silent defeat had just been the tip of the iceberg of his emotional reaction the cruel comparison to the demon that had held them prisoner. Wrapped up in his own fear he had neglected to consider Peter's side. After everything they had been through recently it couldn't have been easy to have to be the one to remind Neal that he wasn't free yet. Looking back on it Neal realized he hadn't even let Peter get a word in edge wise to defend himself or even to offer any solutions before labeling him as the source of his problems. With Peter's emotional stress leading to him being physically ill Neal could only stand by and hope that his momentary loss of temper didn't cost Peter his life.

"…I'm sorry."

_'Neal,'_ Jake whispered urgently _'Neal, what he hell are you moping about for? Now's your chance!_

Yelping at the sudden return of his deranged subconscious representation of Jake Neal whirled around to face him angrily. Turning around Neal didn't see Jake, but what he did see was the unguarded door leading out of the CCU. Jake appeared near the door and looked at Neal expectantly. With Peter having a medical crisis everyone's attention was focused on him, including that of his fellow Agents.

_'Now or never, Neal.'_

"Never."


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter Seventy-four

"You didn't really think you'd get away with this did you?"

Shivering in pain from the infected wound over his heart Jake's thoughts kept drifting back to the first time he had earned the mark. The memories of the event were somehow chaotic and crystal clear all at the same time. Having woken up bound and blind on a cold floor Jake's head had been swimming with drugs and adrenaline. He had battled to make even the slightest bit of sense of what was going on with no success. The piece of the puzzle that really didn't fit into the nightmarish kidnapping was that the last thing he distinctly remembered was being in police custody after a 'job' had gone South.

Jake had known from the start that there might be something wrong with the job. It had been a good amount of money for a fairly simple task and that always meant there was some sort of catch. The small gang that Jake had fallen in with had hesitated and passed it around, unsure if it was worth the risk. In the end the leader had decided that it was 'too good to be true' and everyone else had listened to him. The outlaw group had taken Jake in off the street a few months back and had seemed to genuinely taken him in as one of their own almost instantly. They didn't have much but they shared what they did have and they had kept a roof over his head, even if it was attached to a condemned building. Squatting in New York wasn't as easy as just finding a place and breaking in. There were rules and territories that had to be obeyed, trying to seek shelter from the rain in the wrong place had dangerous consequences.

What made the game even harder for anyone trying to live on their own was that the rules and rulers were constantly changing. There was safety in numbers and having found a group willing to take him in for the first time Jake had quickly grown to trust them and desire their respect. Jake hadn't been able to offer very much in the short time he'd known them, his main tool set lay in brute force and he wasn't very skilled at the pick pocketing and other thieving talents his new friends used to survive. With such a big score within easy reach Jake hadn't been able to resist the chance to prove his value to the group and he had decided to take the job on his own. He had asked very little in the way of questions knowing he wouldn't get any answers. It had actually been the lack of detail that had caused his more experienced friends to back away from the deal. However Jake hadn't thought that the 'who' in the situation matter as long as the 'what' was easy to get.

Everything had gone smoothly at first, but at the time he figured that there must have been a silent alarm because shortly after he'd broken in the police had arrived. Not looking to get shot over a simply B and E Jake had surrendered when the officer cornered him in the house. With no major priors he had expected to end up with a few months or at worst a year. If he had known that he'd end up several stories underground and far from anything that resembled due process he would have fought harder to escape.

"Going after one of my businesses is one thing," York had growled when he was sure Jake was awake "but breaking into my home…that is unforgivable."

Straining against his gag Jake had tried to apologize and explain that it hadn't been anything personal. He hadn't been there to hurt anyone, he was just looking to steal a small work of art that the man who had hired him desired. York wasn't interested in explanations, he was only there to enjoy administering his own particular brand of justice. The sudden escalation of violence of having his shirt torn open followed by the unexpected agony of branding had erased all of the apology from Jake's mind. Rage replaced his previous fear as he blindly kicked and fought back forcing them to nearly beat him to death to get him back under control. The men have very well murdered him on the spot of York hadn't called them off when he felt Jake had had enough. Exhausted and gagging against the cloth between his teeth from the final sharp blow to the stomach Jake laid on the floor trying to snarl insults at his tormentors.

"A fighter, I like that" York mocked approvingly. "You might just live long enough to properly regret crossing me."

Jake didn't need any extra time to regret breaking into the mad man's home, he had regretted it the second the police had arrived. However Jake had learned long ago that regretting the past didn't help improve the present or even help change future. With his anger seeping away Jake found himself oddly calm as he laid waiting at York's feet. He had always expected his life to end violently and that idea was helping him cope with accepting that it was just happening a little sooner than he thought it would.

"At least you're not a coward." York noted. "I respect that."

Jake didn't care about having his captors respect, he just wanted this over with. With his mood having shifted from fear to anger before settling on acceptance he was quickly sliding into defeat as the pain in his chest throbbed in time with his laboring heartbeat. Just as he thought he might black out Jake's anger returned, this time more at the unfairness of the cruel world he was about to be taken from rather than at York specifically. Realizing that death might actually be the best thing to happen to him Jake managed a brief rueful chuckle as his thoughts spiraled further out of control. He'd never known a time when he could keep a hold of any one emotion for any real length of time so the rapid shifts he was experiencing under strain didn't surprise or alarm him. Watching Jake's internal struggle play out in his body language York took a moment to calm his own anger as he looked a little more closely at the young man at his mercy.

"Hmmm." York mused wordlessly with a predatory tone.

Zoning out almost completely from the over stimulation Jake barely flinched when York bent down and ran his fingertips down the well sculpted landscape of his abs. Under different circumstances the shift to a gentle touch from someone who had been torturing him seconds ago would have turned Jake's blood to ice, but the continual stress and searing pain was pushing him into true shock. He did pull away slightly when York went to put his fingers into his hair but that was mostly an automatic response since in the past that move was usually followed by someone using his hair as a hold to hurt him. A knock at the door kept York's curiosity from exploring Jake any further at the moment.

"Sir?" A hesitant voice asked.

"This had better be important." York growled darkly.

"Officer Lansing has been arrested by Internal Affairs, I thought you'd want to know right away. As far as we can tell he's not saying anything about you."

"Of course he isn't." York said irritated. "I don't buy just any cop. Damn, this is going to slow things down. The good dirty ones are hard to find. Wait…"

Jake growled in pain and spit another unintelligible curse when York jabbed him in what was likely a broken rib with his foot.

"Were you paid to break into my house?" York demanded.

With sudden hope of possibly gaining some mercy and maybe even saving the life he'd been so quick to give up on before Jake nodded.

"Bait." York snarled in disgust.

"Bait?" One of the men asked not understanding.

"Someone set this kid up knowing that Lansing would hand him over instead of taking him in the station, then they ratted Lansing out to take him away from me. Now we're down a cop." York sighed sounding more disappointed than angry. "Who paid you?"

"I…I don't know."

"I suppose if you were stupid enough to break into my house you were dumb enough not to get a name." York said knowingly. "Are you with one of those East warehouse rat gangs? Which one?"

This time Jake hesitated to answer. He had no doubt that York would go after the others in search of a name and this mess wasn't their fault. When he didn't answer one of York's men sat down on his hips to pin him down and slammed his palm against his fresh brand. Crying out in pain Jake tried to thrash to escape the pain but with his wrists bound and his energy already failing him there was nothing he could do. Unlike Neal who had always fought to keep quiet out of defiance Jake had no reservations about screaming but he didn't let them degrade him to the point of begging. Determined to protect what little he cared about Jake just cried out senselessly waiting for death or unconsciousness to claim him.

"Enough." York ordered casually before standing over Jake. "Loyalty…that I wasn't expecting. It doesn't really matter. I bet this was Marcus, he's getting too bold. I enjoyed the competition and games at first but this has to end."

"Do you want us to bring him down to the Labyrinth?"

"No. Someone will take notice if he disappears. I'm just going to buy him out, he's hinted in the past that he has a price and it's a fairly reasonable one."

"What about this one?" The man on top of Jake asked clearly hoping to get the go ahead to kill him.

"Put him in the Ring, but start him off easy…I want to see how he adjusts."

Jake shuddered at the memory of just how quickly had had adjusted and how once the shock had worn off just how far he'd been willing to go to survive. There was even a time when he didn't even mind the dark turn his life had taken. He'd never fit in all that well into civilized society, but he was well suited for the barbaric world of the Labyrinth. At least he had been before York had decided to throw his previous caution to the wind and lock Jake up with two decent men. It had been so long since Jake had come across the positive side of human nature and spirit that he'd all but forgotten it.

The problem was that now that he had experienced that kind of companionship he was finding it difficult to live without it again. Closing his eyes Jake nestled harder against Ethan's chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat. Jake could feel the tension in his captive's muscles, usually he would have enjoyed the sense of power that brought, but he found his stomach churning in sympathy for the man's terror. No longer comfortable Jake struggled to sit up without causing his brand too much extra pain. Ethan whimpered quietly as the monster that had been seemingly sleeping peaceful against him started to stir.

Sitting up Jake faced Ethan. Having learned his lesson Ethan made sure to keep his eyes open to the point of barely blinking. Unable to bear direct eye contact Ethan kept his eyes down cast unless directed by Jake to do otherwise. Wanting Ethan to challenge him more directly the way Neal had Jake snapped his fingers a few times to get him to look up. Ethan quickly obeyed, but there was no fire in his sapphire eyes just a panicked terror as he sucked for breath against the tie wedged between his teeth. Rolling his eyes in annoyance Jake glared at Ethan.

"Scream and I'll crush your throat. Understood?"

Ethan nodded his compliance. Jake had pulled the tie out a few times to keep his charge hydrated, but this time he was more interested in a conversation. Neal had always tried to keep from engaging him in conversation but it had never taken much of a push to get him talking. Free of the gag Ethan licked nervously at the bleeding at the corners of his mouth. Frozen like a deer in headlights Ethan just stared silently at Jake. Jake just stared back to see what would happen. He could see Ethan's mind racing as he tried to figure out what was expected of him. Clearly working on steeling up some courage Ethan swallowed hard giving Jake hope that maybe Ethan had some fight in him afterall.

"Please," Ethan whispered hoarsely as he used his voice for the first time in days "I have a daughter, I have a hu…spouse. Please, they need me."

"I didn't see any pictures of your family in your wallet."

Ethan furrowed his brow in a moment of genuine confusion.

"Well?" Jake demanded.

"I don't…I don't keep pictures in my wallet, they're on my phone."

"That glass thing that wanted a passcode?"

"You don't know what a phone looks like?" Ethan asked without thinking.

"I've been down here a while, things have changed."

"If…" Ethan hesitated "if you still have it I can show you."

"I crushed it." Jake shrugged. "I figured that's what it was and even the last ones I saw were easily traced."

Having the small amount of hope he'd had at contacting help taken away from him was more than Ethan could take. Closing the eyes that had lead to this fate Ethan managed to stay quiet as tears slipped down his face. Studying Ethan Jake furrowed his brow at the increasingly deep pit that was opening in his stomach over his captive's plight. None of this was working out the Jake plan, although when he thought about it there had never really been a plan. Ethan had been a crime of convenience that was turning out to be anything but. Not even really knowing why he was doing it Jake reached out and with a quick jerked he tore open Ethan's shirt. Exposing his unmarked chest Jake traced out where a brand would be if York had been the one to take Ethan. Jake suddenly wished he could trade bodies with Ethan, a clean slate and a fresh start.

Still studying the flawless skin over Ethan's heart Jake was taken completely off guard when Ethan brazenly closed the small gap between then with an aggressive kiss. Surprised by the awkwardly forced affection Jake reared back before backing handing Ethan hard enough to split his lip open. Cowering as best he could Ethan trembled violently in renewed terror.

"I'm sorry," Ethan whimpered "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you doing?" Jake demanded.

"I…I thought that's what you wanted."

Jake just stared in horror at Ethan.

"Please, please, I will do anything to see my family again…or even just a chance to say good-bye."

Ethan's heartfelt plea cut into Jake and made him physically nauseous as the pit in his stomach finally bottomed out. No one's pleas for mercy had ever effected him this strongly because none of his other victims were technically his to begin with. York was the one holding them captive and there hadn't been anything Jake could do about that. Ethan was different, Ethan he had true control over and it wasn't giving Jake the relief from his pain that he had been seeking when he'd kidnapped him in the first place. Finding the man's company unbearable Jake reached into his back pocket and pulled out the small knife he kept there. Seeing the weapon Ethan mewled in fear as he jerked uselessly at his restraints. Leaning into Ethan Jake reached around and cut him free.

"Go." Jake growled as he sat back.

Frozen in shock Ethan didn't move at first. Snarling in rage and his own despair Jake jumped to his feet. He reached down and hauled Ethan to his feet by his hair before throwing him back to the dirty floor in the direction of the exit.

"Go!"


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: super hard chapter to write. I hope it works. thank you all for all your support! It's been so long since I've actually watched the show that I honestly don't remember how they handled things right after Keller and all that...so I put my own spin on it. ;)

Chapter Seventy-five

 

“I’m sorry, Satchmo.” Elizabeth apologized sincerely as she knelt down. “I know this must be frightening for you, but everything is going to be okay. Daddy will be home soon.”

Not understanding her words but finding comfort in the tone of her voice Satchmo wagged hesitantly as he pressed his head against Elizabeth’s chest. Elizabeth put her arms around Satchmo as she looked around at the utter destruction he had caused. Even as a pup Satchmo had rarely destroyed anything but under the stress of having Peter gone and then with Elizabeth seemingly abandoning him as well the powerful labrador had taken his anxiety out on the furniture with spectacular results. With couch and love seat stuffing littering the floor it almost looked like it had snowed in the living room. He had also chewed through three of the wooden banister railings on the stairs as well as some of the molding. 

“Sorry about the mess.” Mozzie said despite not being to blame.

“It’s fine, it really wasn’t fair of me to just leave him. It is an amazing mess though.”

“I can clean up this up, don’t worry about it. I think Satchmo will be okay with me now.”

“Actually the hospital told me I could bring him to Peter.”

“Really?”

“They encourage families to bring their dogs in for visits.” 

“Dogs do make good medicine.”

“Peter could use Satchmo right now.” Elizabeth said sadly.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Neal and Peter had a fight.” 

“A fight?” Mozzie asked surprised. “About what?”

“Neal’s anklet.”

“I had totally forgotten about that.”

“So had Neal.” Elizabeth sighed. “Mozzie I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t help Neal run. Please, I don’t think Peter could handle it right now if Neal disappeared.”

“Elizabeth, Neal isn’t going anywhere.” Mozzie assured. “I can see where he would be upset about the anklet, and honestly he has every right to be, but he’s not going to run. He talks a big game at times, but when it comes down to it he wants to be here, he wants to be with Peter, and he certainly isn’t going to leave him in a time of need.” 

“He’s so angry…” Elizabeth whispered recalling Neal’s bitter accusation to Peter.

“Neal’s an emotional creature, you know that.”

Elizabeth nodded as she rubbed at Satchmo’s ears to comfort herself. Peter has looked so despondent when he’d backed out of Neal’s room. She tried to tell herself that Neal was just feeling trapped and was understandably lashing out out of fear and stress, she just wished he hadn’t taken his frustration out on Peter in such a malicious manner. Overwhelmed by the long emotional road ahead of all them mixed with her own exhaustion Elizabeth couldn’t keep from breaking down. Still kneeling down with Satchmo she hid her face in his soft fur. Distressed by the turn in her emotions Satchmo whimpered.

“Elizabeth, it’s going to be okay.” Mozzie said feeling helpless. 

“I know.” Elizabeth nodded, trying to stay positive. “I just hate seeing them in pain. I know Neal wouldn’t act like this if he wasn’t suffering, but it’s adding so much to Peter’s stress. I love Neal, I do, but no one can hurt Peter like he can.”

“No one can help him like Neal either. They have a shared trauma and as much as you and I can be there for them no can understand what they’ve been though like they can. Neal’s dealing with stresses that he doesn’t know how to cope with, please don’t blame him for lashing out.”

“I’m not blaming him, I know his anger is a symptom…I just…I just want everything to go back to normal.”

“Give it some time. Give Neal and Peter some time.”

Elizabeth nodded again still feeling heavy hearted. 

“Take a shower, get some fresh clothes, you’ll feel better.”

“I need to get back to the hospital.”

“You need to take care of yourself, you’ll do Peter and Neal more good if you do. You’ve been living at the hospital for almost four days.”

“So have you.”

“Let’s just say I’m used to life without indoor plumbing for extended periods of time.”

Elizabeth chuckled, feeling a little better at the chance to laugh. Finally standing up she pulled Mozzie into a warm hug. Flushing deeply Mozzie returned the affection carefully. Thanking him for helping her through everything Elizabeth went upstairs for a much needed shower and change of clothes. Not knowing how much longer Peter was going to be in the hospital she packed a few things to bring with her this time. She was about to head back downstairs when her phone chimed at her. She couldn’t help the pang of anxiety that coursed through her ever time the phone asked for her attention. Looking at the text and seeing that it was from Asha Elizabeth’s anxiety turned to guilt. 

‘I have been hearing rumors. Please don’t tell me either way, but just know that I pray that the ones concerning your husband are true even if I still can’t believe the rest. I miss you, but I understand.’

Elizabeth stared at the message for a full minute torn on how or even if she should reply. She still didn’t know if Peter had identified Walker or not, she had to leave the room while he looked at the photos and right afterwards he’d had the argument with Neal. Knowing the case would still be sensitive even if he did pick Walker out Elizabeth worried about associating with Asha. Elizabeth didn’t believe for one second that Asha was in any way responsible, but she did work for Walker and lawyers had ways of twisting everything. Putting the phone in her pocket Elizabeth told herself she just wasn’t going to reply however a sickening feeling in her stomach wouldn’t let her continue ignore the woman who had done so much for her.

‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth paused before adding to the short message. ‘For everything.’

Elizabeth waited a moment to see if Asha would reply and was relieved when she didn’t. Elizabeth hoped that once everything was over that Asha would be willing to reconnect. Even if Walker was the one who had taken everything from her Asha had helped pull her through it. Elizabeth had hoped that replying to Asha would calm her anxiety, but despite continuing to tell herself that Asha was innocent she couldn’t keep paranoid thoughts from gnawing at her. 

Hurrying down stairs Elizabeth found Mozzie doing his best to collect up the couch foam while Satchmo followed him around with his head low and his tail slightly tucked in contrition. Having gathered up an armful of the unruly fluff Mozzie was at a loss as to what to do with it. Deciding to return it to the torn couch he lost his balance slightly but managed to catch himself before he fell. Although he kept on his feet he looked a little dazed.

“Mozzie?” Elizabeth asked concerned. 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“I haven’t gotten much sleep.” Mozzie admitted. 

“You need sleep. Stay here, get a shower, and a nap.”

“Satchmo destroyed my nap spot.” Mozzie pointed out.

“You can use our bed upstairs.”

“Peter won’t like that.”

“It will be our secret.” Elizabeth smiled. 

“I should get back to Neal.”

“I will check in on him for you. Please, you need to take care of yourself too.”

Mozzie clearly wanted to protest but now that it had been suggested that he rest he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. Elizabeth insisted that Mozzie take his own advice and he finally conceded before heading upstairs. When Elizabeth walked over towards the front door and picked up the leash Satchmo bounded over and danced with excitement at the prospect of being included. 

“If you think you’re excited now just wait.” Elizabeth smiled. 

Overjoyed by Elizabeth’s excitement Satchmo wiggled so much it was difficult to get his leash snapped to his collar. The Agent that had escorted Elizabeth home was standing guard outside while he waited to take her back. Elizabeth apologized about the fur in the back seat of his car but the Agent assured her that it was an FBI vehicle and they’d pay to clean it. Elizabeth hadn’t seen much of Jones and Diana other than a few quick visits with Peter, but she suspected they were busy investigating the finical side of Walker even though they officially weren’t supposed to be working that case.

Bringing Satchmo up to the CCU Elizabeth felt that he would have a good effect on Neal as well. Hopeful that perhaps he and Peter had patched things up while she was away Elizabeth was not prepared to step into the chaotic scene that greeted her. They had slowly been turning the lights up on Neal and Peter but it was still dark compared to the bright day outside adding to the confusion. Having stepped through the double doors that separated the unit from the rest of the floor Elizabeth found Neal standing in the middle of the hall with an alarming amount of blood staining his clothes down his side. He had terrified yet some how still vacant expression in his eyes and he didn’t acknowledge her in any way.

Despite that Neal clearly needed help no one was paying the slightest attention to him. There were three Agents near by but they were all focused on Peter’s room. Elizabeth was so upset that Neal was just abandoned in the hallway looking like he was deep in shock that it didn’t even dawn on her that there might be a reason why the staff was nowhere in sight and that the Agents were preoccupied. Satchmo whined and took a hesitant step towards Neal before backing up again. Keeping a tight hold of his leash Elizabeth carefully approached Neal. He had his cobalt eyes locked on something that Elizabeth couldn’t see and he still didn’t seem to even realize she was there. 

“Neal.” Elizabeth said gently to no effect. “Neal, can you hear me?”

With shallow shuddering breaths Neal slowly turned his attention to her and furrowed his brow in confusion. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if he was struggling to recognize her or if he was having trouble connecting with reality in general. Gaunt with weight loss and pale with stress he looked like he was barely hanging on to consciousness. 

“Elizabeth?” Neal pieced together in a hoarse whisper. 

“That’s right.” Elizabeth smiled warmly. “Neal, you need to let the doctors treat you. Please.”

“They…they’re all with Peter.”

“What?”

Elizabeth’s blood turned to ice at the horrified anxiety in Neal’s trembling voice. Looking up at the scene again it suddenly pulled into focus what was happening. She couldn’t see into Peter’s room past the curtain but the shadows at the bottom spoke of the activity behind them. Without thinking Elizabeth rushed forward. Neal caught her around the waist and held her back. She wasn’t sure if his reaction had been an automatic one or if he knew that if things weren’t going well in the room that she probably couldn’t handle the sight. If Peter was crashing there wouldn’t be anything she could do other than get in the way but she desperately wanted to be there for him. With her panicked thoughts stumbling over one another as she imagined the worst Elizabeth tried to call out to him but found herself too breathless to make any sound. Tucking his tail at the sudden fear in the air Satchmo pressed against Elizabeth’s leg. 

Before Elizabeth could even begin to process the idea that she might lose Peter Dr. Azarov stepped out of the room. Quickly surveying the unit Azarov spotted Elizabeth and made a point of smiling brightly at her. Elizabeth was glad that Neal still had his arms around her waist because she had become dizzy with relief from the positive sign from the doctor. Agent Walsh who had been waiting anxiously next to the door visibly relaxed as well. Azarov walked quickly over to Neal and Elizabeth. She still had her reassuring smile but a knot in Elizabeth’s stomach still tightening as she approached. Satchmo stretched his neck out as far as he could without leaving Elizabeth’s side as he sniffed at Azarov with great interest and started wagging the tip of his tail in hesitant excitement.

“Your husband is fine, Mrs. Burke.” Azarov said quickly before any other explanation. 

“Thank you.” Elizabeth replied weakly.

“Wha…what happened?” Neal asked still sounding dazed.

“He had a severe panic attack that mimicked a heart attack, which is common. It can be very difficult to tell the two apart at times for both us and the patient. With as taxed as his system is it was very plausible that he was in danger of arrest, so we took every precaution. Even under normal conditions we treat these episodes as emergencies until they prove to be other wise. I’m sorry, it must have been frightening for you both but we had to make sure he was stable.”

“You’re sure he’s okay?” Elizabeth asked anxiously. 

“We gave him some Ativan and he’s resting comfortably, we are doing some blood work just to be sure. However I’m confident his heart is strong.” Azarov looked down at Satchmo and smiled. “I bet he would love to see this guy, and vice versa.”

Able to smell Peter on the doctor and now having her attention Satchmo thrashed his tail violently back and forth. Relieved that Peter was physically okay despite his psychological distress Elizabeth suddenly became aware of just how hard Neal was shaking. Doctor Azarov looked at him in concern but rather than try to approach him directly she gave Elizabeth a pleading look. Willing to do whatever she could to get Neal to accept help Elizabeth stepped out of his light embrace and turned to face him. 

He looked like he was on the verge of becoming panic stricken himself. The scent from the gore staining his side was a warning sign that he needed to stop refusing the antibiotics before the infection literally ate him from the inside out. With a fine bead of sweat at his battered temple from a quickly rising fever Neal was staring at nothing with a petrified expression sparkling in his red rimmed eyes. Elizabeth glanced at the blank wall wondering what it was Neal saw there before she turned her attention back to him.

“Neal…” Elizabeth said gently. “Neal, look at me.”

When Neal failed to reconnect with reality Elizabeth risked reaching out and touching him. Not thinking about the brand that lay beneath his bloodied shirt she rested her hand over his heart to get his attention. Neal jerked slightly at the contact but it did pull him back into focus as he looked at Elizabeth with a sorrowful expression. 

“I’m sorry.” Neal whispered.

“Don’t worry about it, Peter is fine, but I’m increasingly worried about you. Neal, I can’t even pretend to know what you’re going through, but I do know that it is going to get worse if you keep refusing help.”

Neal nodded meekly as he broke eye contact again. Elizabeth knew this was a difficult topic for Neal, he seemed desperate to trust but in times of need he often fell back on the belief that the only person he could truly rely on was himself. Elizabeth considered her next words carefully knowing that her plan might backfire but feeling it was worth the risk.

“Don’t tell Peter I told you this but after everything that happened with the treasure and Keller I…I wasn’t sure I wanted you back in our lives.” Elizabeth admitted solemnly. “Peter had to convince me that you were worth another chance after he and I had to pay such a heavy price for your lie.”

Neal’s anxiety became palpably at the mention of the stolen treasure that had lead to Keller kidnapping her. Elizabeth knew that Neal still carried a great deal of guilt over the event, but she had a goal in mind by bringing it up.

“When I asked him why he was even considering it he told me: ‘Neal didn’t fail me, I failed him.’.”

“What?” Neal asked shocked. 

“Once the dust settled Peter decided that if he had handled things differently after he shot Adler that maybe things would have gone better, that maybe you would have come to him. Peter always wants to believe in the best in you. In the end I agreed not only because I do truly forgive you but also because Peter wasn’t just giving you a second chance, he was giving himself one.”

“I didn’t know that.” Neal admitted.

“I know, Peter is a proud man. It’s an alpha male thing.” Elizabeth smiled ruefully. “He doesn’t like to admit to his mistakes but he tries to learn from them. Peter has always wanted what he feels is best for you, he desperately wants to see you succeed. However he’s only human and he doesn’t always go about things the right way.”

“Just like me.” Neal smiled sadly.

“Just like you.” Elizabeth agreed. “My point is that people don’t offer second chances like that one to just anyone, you mean so much to us both. Peter and I love you, Neal, it pains us to watch you suffer, and right now we…we are watching you die.”

“Elizabeth…”

“Please, Neal, please let the doctors treat you and give them the time they need.” Elizabeth begged. “It would break our hearts to lose you now when help is right here.”

Neal stared at Elizabeth in shock as if it hadn’t occurred to him that he was in mortal danger from refusing the doctors. Slowly looking down at the rancid blood soaking through his shirt Neal’s breath hissed across his teeth showing that he hadn’t even noticed that he’d reopened his wound. Further proving how far his health had slipped Neal glanced at the empty spot on the wall and curled his lip defiantly at whatever hallucination was taunting him. Turning his eyes back to Elizabeth he smiled warmly.

“Mr Caffrey,” Azarov finally spoke up “I can help you, but Mrs Burke is correct in that you are on a knife’s edge. You need care or you are going to go into septic shock. We need to get fluids, antibiotics and some food into you as well as run some blood work.”

“Okay.” Neal agreed quietly.

“Thank you, Neal.” Elizabeth leaned in and kissed Neal’s cheek.

“Thank you.” Neal smiled. 

Elizabeth hoped that this time Neal stuck with his promise to allowing for medical care. With Liam they had backed him into a corner, it had been necessary at the time, but she hoped that this approach would work better. She knew he still had a long way to go emotionally but if they could just keep him calm enough to heal physically they’d be on the right track, but she got the feeling that it was going to be an uphill battle. Accepting the ground she had won today Elizabeth tried not to worry about the next bridge until they came to it. Getting increasingly impatient Satchmo whined quietly causing Neal to reached down and rub between his ears. Standing back up Neal nearly passed out as his blood pressure tanked. Elizabeth put her hands around his wait to help keep him on his feet but he was fading fast.

“Mr. Caffrey, I need you back in your room before you fall.”

“Peter…”

“Don’t worry about Peter right now, go with the doctor. Everything between you and Peter is going to work out, despite everything you two always find common ground to stand on.” Elizabeth assured. “You will forgive him, and he will forgive you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Two sides of the same coin always meet in the middle.”


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter Seventy-six

Trying to concentrate on remaining calm Peter couldn't help fighting against the drugs in his system. He had tried laying down but it had just made it hard to breath so he brought the head of the bed up to relieve the pressure on his chest. He knew the medication was just doing its job but the loopy loss of control feeling he was getting from the fast acting anti-anxiety was far too reminiscent of the sensation he'd woken up to in the Labyrinth from the Rohypnol. If he had known that he was just panicking he wouldn't have called for help, but the chest pain had been so intense he had sworn something was deadly wrong. The doctor had kept telling him to stop saying 'just a panic attack' as she tried to convince him that the anxiety was just as a legitimate reason to seek help as a physical problem.

Sitting up in bed struggling to surrender to the calming effect of the Ativan Peter silently chastised himself for not being stronger in the first place. He had forgiven himself for the episodes of panic he'd suffered in the Labyrinth due to the conditions, but now that he was out he knew he had to do better. Neal and Elizabeth were dealing with enough he couldn't add having to worry about him to their stressors. Shaking his head to try and clear it Peter deeply regretted agreeing to what had been advertised by the doctor as a 'mild sedative'.

Peter reached up and rubbed at his chest over his heart that still felt like it wanted to race even though it was being chemically forced into a steady rhythm. He had completely lost track of time but it was starting to feel like it had been hours since Elizabeth left. Looking around the empty room Peter told himself there were any number of perfectly innocent reasons why Elizabeth was taking so long to return. The one reason that suddenly struck him was the fact that he had no idea how far he was from their home. He was only realizing now that he didn't know which hospital he was in or even what floor the CCU was on. Peter hadn't known where he was for so long that he hadn't even thought to ask.

Swallowing hard Peter forced himself to continue to wait. He didn't want to call to make sure she was okay because he didn't want her thinking that she had to be at his side twenty-four/seven. Outwardly Peter managed to stay still but inside his mounting anxiety clashing against the medication was tearing him apart. With his pulse starting to pound in his ears as his body's stress hormones won the battle against the pharmaceuticals Peter became increasingly restless. Still determined to just wait it out Peter couldn't help the audible sigh of relief when Elizabeth suddenly appeared at the door. Smiling brightly he strove to hide the distress he'd been in, unsure if the doctor had talked to her about the incident already.

"Hey, Hon, how's Satch…"

Peter didn't get a chance to finish his inquiry as Satchmo yanked his leash away from Elizabeth as he bolted into this room. With his claws clattering for traction on the smooth CCU room floor the Lab raced over to the bed. Far too excited to even pretend to remember his training or manners Satchmo bounded up on the bed with all the grace of a bird in flight. Momentarily knocked breathless by the 70 pounds of exuberance landing in his lap Peter instantly lost the anxiety that had been threatening his sanity only seconds ago. Catching his breath Peter laughed as Satchmo affectionately assaulted him with his tongue. His tail was thrashing so hard it was throwing his whole backside off balance. Peter reached up and ruffled Satchmo's soft chest fur before leaning away from the slobbery onslaught.

"Okay, okay, easy, Boy." Peter smiled as he tried unsuccessfully to calm the joyous animal. "I'm happy to see you too."

"This is a little embarrassing," Elizabeth chuckled as she stepped up to the bed "I don't think I gave you half the greeting Satchmo has."

"Only because we haven't had any real privacy." Peter teased.

"Challenge accepted." Elizabeth smiled mischievously.

Ecstatic to have his pack back together again Satchmo flopped down on the bed and rolled over to show off his stomach. Thumping his tail against the bed he lolled his tongue out of as wide toothy grin as Peter rubbed his fur. Completely content Satchmo panted heavily from the sheer exhilaration of the reunion. Smiling down at the loyal animal Peter felt that Satchmo had done far more good for him than any of the medications the doctors had given him. Finding a refuge from pain and stress Peter looked up at Elizabeth with a warm smile.

"Thank you for bringing him."

"Of course, besides we can't afford to lose any more furniture."

"Did you eat my napping couch?" Peter asked Satchmo in mock disapproval.

Thrilled to have Peter's attention Satchmo wagged harder in response to the accusation. Standing on the opposite side of the bed Elizabeth leaned over to pet Satchmo to make sure he knew he was forgiven. Peter took the opportunity of having her closer to steal a kiss. With his anxiety now truly erased the drugs in his system took the opportunity to take over as Peter nuzzled her cheek in drunken affection. Tugging on Elizabeth's arm Peter encouraged her to follow Satchmo's lead and share the small hospital bed with them. Chuckling Elizabeth slipped into the small bed as best she could. Putting one arm around each of them Peter closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate having his family back.

Peter had not meant to fall asleep but after the stressful morning combined with the medication and the soothing warmth of Elizabeth and Satchmo he had nodded off almost immediately. Waking up from a dreamless sleep it took Peter a few seconds to realize that he wasn't home yet with Satchmo and Elizabeth still flanking him. With his mind feeling clearer than it had in months Peter started wondering just how much longer he had to stay in the hospital. The questions instantly brought Neal back to the foreground of his thoughts.

Worrying about how Neal was fairing Peter furrowed his brow as he looked over into the corner and discovered that he was in the room. Propped up in the corner Neal had fallen asleep holding a small glass container in his hands that had a clear line of tubbing connected to the top of it that lead to the IV in his arm. Sleeping fitfully Neal's breath caught in his chest giving Peter the impression that he was probably dreaming about being trapped underwater again. As impressed Peter was to learn how Neal had pushed his fear aside to swim to freedom he doubted that the journey had helped him overcome his new found phobia. Gasping sharply Neal twitched as he fought against an imaginary assailant.

Unable to just stand by and watch Neal becoming increasingly distressed in his sleep Peter went to wake Elizabeth only to find she was already awake. Being the middle of the day when he had invited her to join him it was possible she hadn't slept at all. With no windows in the CCU it was just as difficult for Peter to stick to any kind of circadian rhythm here as in the Labyrinth. Having slept until late afternoon it was likely that he was now going to be awake for most of the night. With Peter awake Elizabeth crawled out of the over crowed bed before leaning in to steal a kiss. It wasn't until she stood back up that she noticed Neal in the corner. Elizabeth turned to Peter with a look of silent concern.

Carefully walking around to the other side of the bed Elizabeth tugged on Satchmo's collar. The lab was reluctant to give up his spot on the bed but he did jump down after Peter gave him a little push. Taking Satchmo's leash Elizabeth leaned in to give Peter's cheek another kiss before stepping out of the room not only to take Satchmo for a walk but to give her boys some time to be alone. Peter was endlessly grateful for her understanding when it came to Neal and her faith that if she just gave them some time that they would work things about between themselves instead of feeling like she had to fix their bridges herself.

Fighting for breath Neal remained locked in a nightmare as he was tormented by the demons in his head. Getting out of bed Peter had to stand still for a minute while his blood pressure caught up with him before he was able to walk over to Neal. Sitting down on the floor Peter was a little shocked by the powerful scent of decay on Neal. The small bottle Neal was holding revealed itself to be a portable IV antibiotic container which proved that Neal was at least letting the doctors treat him even if he wasn't doing a great job keeping clean.

Neal had calmed for a moment when Peter arrived but when he started whimpering again Peter reached out and gently pushed on his arm to wake him. In the past Neal had woken relatively calmly with this method, but this time he jerked away violently striking his temple on the wall he had been leaning against. Alarmed by the sudden shift into the waking world but too tired to fight Neal just stared at Peter in terror for a second before relaxing into an expression of contrition.

"I'm sorry." Neal said quietly.

"It's okay, I'm the one who startled you."

"No." Neal shook his head. "I'm sorry for comparing you to York. That wasn't fair."

"I'm sorry for saying that a jury would never believe you. That wasn't fair either."

Neal smiled at the exchange of apologies but still looked upset. Moving in closer Peter put his shoulder against Neal's to let him know that they really didn't need to talk about the incident further, all was forgiven. Neal leaned more heavily against him for a moment to return the silent forgiveness. Although he had lost his nervous edge Neal suddenly also lost the focus in his eyes as he stared blankly at the floor. Peter gave Neal a minute to snap back to reality but he just started picking the label off the antibiotic bottle compulsively. Peter felt world's better now that they had let the water slip under the bridge, but he feared that Neal was quickly falling into depression now that he'd lost his anger.

"Neal, I will get your release from the FBI, I promise. I just need some time." Peter assured. "Once I'm back on my feet I'll have some favors to call in and no one is going to want to be the one to say 'no' to a request from an Agent on leave due to recovering from a kidnapping. Particularly not when that favor pertains to the man who saved my life."

"Thank you." Neal tried to smile but his expression was still sorrowful.

"Be patient, Neal, not just with me but with yourself as well. I know how hard it is to stay here in the hospital, I don't want to be here either. But we are both too medically unstable to leave for now."

"I know. I never would have forgiven myself if you had di…"

"I'm fine." Peter interrupted the morbid thought. "It was just stress."

"Because of me."

"No. You've stressed me plenty in the past without sending me into a panic. It was just a perfect storm of circumstances, but I don't blame you. But it would help me tremendously if you would agree to stay and get treated."

"I will, I promise. I understand that I need to be here, I just…" Neal hesitated to continue as the shadow over him darkened. "Never mind."

"I'm sorry, Neal. I know you want to go home, but…"

"It's not that." Neal sighed.

"What is it?"

"No." Neal shook his head. "I don't want to sound like Jake."

"What?"

"…I want to see the sky, Peter."

Peter's blood chilled at the hopeless desperation in Neal's voice. Having passed out once rescued by the tunnel workers Neal had woken up at the hospital and had been purposefully kept safe from the windows. Peter had experienced a brief moment of outside air when first taken from the Labyrinth but he had been blindfolded at the time. For months they had both been breathing recycled indoor air and living with the literal weight of the world hovering above them. Peter glanced up at the white hospital room ceiling with no idea how many floors were between them and sky. He had a pang of anxiety when he realized that they could easily be in a basement level and still underground.

Picking up on Peter's subtle agitation Neal became restless as well as he put the IV bottle in his lap and started to rub at the white bracelet scars around his wrists as if they still hurt. Feeling Neal starting to physically shake Peter put his arm over his shoulders and pulled him closer. Accepting the contact Neal leaned his head against Peter as he tried to relax. Peter wished he could have the same calming effect on Neal that Elizabeth provided for him but it wasn't the same. Giving in to claustrophobia as he fell deeper into dark thoughts Neal started panting again.

"Breathe Neal."

"Why is this so hard?" Neal asked miserably. "I'm more anxious now than I was in the Labyrinth. It doesn't make any sense."

"In the Labyrinth you just had to survive, now you have to live. Being safe gives you time to reflect when before you could only react."

"That's the problem, Peter, I don't feel safe. York is still out there."

"Not for long."

"You identified Walker then?" Neal asked hopefully. "The FBI arrested him?"

"I identified him." Peter confirmed. "Charges are being pressed."

"Charges? He's out on bail already isn't he?" Neal asked bitterly. "He shouldn't even be allowed to post bail. This isn't going to work, Peter, men like him…"

"We are going to get him, Neal. The FBI is tearing his world apart right now, they are not going to leave a single rock for him to hide under. Don't worry about York, that's Agent Walsh's job. You are safe, you are protected, use this time to recover. We will worry about the future when it comes."

Neal took a breath to protest but suddenly froze and pressed his back a little harder into the wall. Peter was going to ask what was wrong but he caught sight of the movement at the curtain. Neal forced himself to relax knowing in his mind that whoever at the door wasn't a danger but his instincts were still keyed into treating all motion as a threat. Dr. Azarov announced herself at the door asking for permission to come in. Peter looked to Neal who nodded.

"Come in, Doctor." Peter said.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's time to disconnect the antibiotic. I thought you'd want that off of there as soon as possible so that you can get in a shower to get the rest of that wound drainage off your skin, Mr. Caffrey."

Neal nodded but Peter noticed that he had tensed every muscle at the mention of getting wet. Peter had actually gotten used to the rotting scent until the doctor had mentioned it again, but as must stress as it would cause him Neal did need a shower. Azarov asked Neal if she could step closer and he nodded, allowing her to disconnect the IV and place a small waterproof film over the access point in his arm that stayed in place. Peter still didn't like how quiet Neal got around other people but he couldn't blame him and bringing it up now wasn't going to help. To Peter's surprise as soon as Azarov took a few steps back Neal got to his feet and headed towards the bathroom. He looked like he was walking towards the gallows but he was going on his own volition.

"Neal?"

"I'm okay." Neal lied.

Azarov gave Peter a questioning look after Neal disappeared into the small bathroom but Peter decided he didn't want to get into the details with the doctor right now. He had something else he wanted to ask. Azarov listened to his unusual request before nodding thoughtfully and replying that she wasn't sure but she would see what she could do. With the doctor gone Peter got to his feet and sat down on the couch while he waited for Neal. Neal probably thought the sound of the running water was hiding his retching but Peter could hear it loud and clear. Peter wanted to help but he wasn't sure how, the last time he'd tried Neal had ended up fainting anyway. The fact that he hadn't heard Neal fall meant that as least he was making some progress with the hydrophobia on his own.

It didn't take long for Neal to step out of the small bathroom looking a little worse for wear but at least no longer smelling like death. Breathing like he'd just run a marathon Neal was avoiding looking at Peter. He knew he was doing a terrible job of hiding how distressed the quick shower had made him. When Neal became frozen in place Peter got to his feet and stepped up to draw Neal into a comforting embrace. Appreciating the support Neal leaned against Peter and gave up on trying to keep from trembling. Closing his eyes Peter let Neal shake knowing that the best thing he could do for him right now was give him a safe place to express his weakness without judgment.

"I'm sorry." Neal whispered as he tried to keep himself from tears.

"It's okay. We are going to get you through this."

"I know I keep obsessing about catching York, but honestly the fact that Jake is still out there haunts me more. I…I can't get…I can't get him out of my head."

"Are you still hallucinating?"

"Less often, but I just saw him."

"He can't hurt you."

Neal just nodded as he took a few deep breaths. With Neal up against him Peter knew he didn't have a fever meaning that Jake was becoming a psychosis and not just a product of delirium. Peter hoped that Neal would accept some professional therapist help soon but for now he just offered him what emotional support he could. Working through the immediate trauma for the time being Neal began to calm until he felt strong enough again to stand on his own. Taking a step back Neal smiled sadly at Peter as he nodded to let him know he was relatively okay again. Peter smiled back and encouraged Neal to sit down on the couch. Sitting down Neal reached up and dragged both his hands through his damn unruly hair in an attempt to tame in.

"That's an improvement." Peter noted.

"Barely, I really need a haircut." Neal smiled ruefully.

"You do, but I was actually talking about your shoulder, you couldn't get your left arm up that high yesterday."

"Oh, right." Neal chuckled. "Elizabeth talked me into letting the doctors close and I got that steroid shot which really has helped."

"I have learned that it's usually best to listen to Elizabeth's advice." Peter chuckled.

"Where is she?"

"Taking Satchmo for a walk."

"You mean giving us some space?"

"That too."

"She's too good to me." Neal said sounding a little guilty.

"Elizabeth sees the best in everyone, it's just one of the many reasons I love her."

"You're a lucky man, Peter."

"The luckiest."

About ten minutes later Elizabeth returned with Satchmo and the lab was just as happy to see Peter this time around as he was the first. Elizabeth didn't ask any questions or even make any mention about the pair getting past their argument. Everyone was satisfied to just move past the stressful morning and enjoy the evening. The staff brought in a variety of simple foods for dinner since once again both Peter and Neal had gone most of the day without eating anything. They also brought Satchmo a bowl of kitchen scraps that he happily munched down. Peter was relieved not only to find himself hungry but that Neal had a healthy appetite as well. With Neal looking more relaxed than he had in months Peter looked over to Elizabeth and silently thanked her.

"I saw that." Neal teased the couple. "But, seriously, thank you for talking some sense into me, Elizabeth."

"You're welcome, Neal." Elizabeth smiled.

"Just make sure that sense stays in your head." Peter warned playfully.

Neal was about to retort when Dr. Azarov announced herself at the door. When she asked permission to enter Peter automatically looked to Neal for his approval to let her in.

"Come in, Doctor." Neal replied.

Peter was surprised how much weight lifted off his heart at the simple fact that Neal felt comfortable enough to answer the doctor. Neal smiled at him knowing himself that he'd taken a good step. Azarov entered with another bottle like the one Neal had been attached to earlier. Knowing what she wanted Neal held out his arm for her and she came over and attached the medication to the IV still in his arm. Azarov handed Neal the bottle and he slipped it into his pocket, letting the long tubing trail at his side.

"Thank you, Doctor." Neal said.

"You're welcome, Mr. Caffrey."

"Please call me Neal."

"How are you feeling, Neal?"

"Much better."

"Good." Azarov smiled before turning to Elizabeth. "Mrs. Burke, can I borrow your husband and Neal for a minute?"

"Uh...of course."

"We will be right back." Peter assured as he gave her a quick kiss before getting to his feet. "Come on, Neal."

"Peter, what's going on?" Neal asked nervously.

"It's okay. Trust me."

Neal still seemed a little wary but at seeing the way Peter smiled he relaxed again. Getting up he followed Peter and the doctor. Azarov looked around when she was in the hall giving Peter the feeling that they really weren't supposed to be doing this. With the only people currently in sight FBI Agents Peter took over in asking permission to leave the floor for a quick trip. The two Agents on guard gave each other a doubtful look but nodded their agreement after Peter repeated his request in the form of a personal favor.

Coming to the elevator at the end of the hall Peter found himself a little nervous to step on it, but knowing the reward was worth it he followed Azarov on. Neal remained highly suspicious but he followed Peter without question. The nervous way Neal stuck close almost made Peter decided to let him in on the surprise however the elevator ride was surprisingly short. Peter and Neal both blinked against the light in the hall, the lights in the CCU had been slowly turned up for them but fully lit hall was still a bit strong. Adjusting well enough to follow Azarov they walked down the short hall to a heavy set of double doors that were locked by a passkey sensor.

"Please don't get me fired." Azarov said at the door. "Five minutes is really all we can get away with and you have to promise not to tell anyone I let you do this."

"We promise." Peter assured.

"We do?" Neal asked. "Wait…is this the roof?"

"It is." Azarov nodded as she used her badge to override the lock. "More specifically it's the helicopter pad so if the lights turn red I need you two to high tail it back inside."

Peter swore that if Neal had a tail he would have started wagging it as soon as he realized what was happening. Excited himself Peter couldn't contain his bright grin as he pushed open the doors and the cool night air rushed over them. Stepping out onto the helicopter pad the pair stared out over the city from their high perch. Looking up at the waning moon that hung far overhead Neal suddenly started laughing. Chuckling himself Peter stared up at the vast expanse of empty space studded with a few bright stars. Ever since they arrived at the hospital Peter had this vague feeling that it was all a dream, but actually seeing the outside world finally cemented their freedom in his mind. The noise of the city wafting up to them was another powerful assurance that they had made it out of their tomb. With his joyfully tearful eyes still on the sky above Neal put his arm over Peter's shoulders.

"Thank you, Peter. I needed this."

"We both did."


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter Seventy-seven

With a pitiful groan Agent Walsh rolled over and clumsily batted at his alarm clock. After a few tries he succeeded in silencing the irritating machine. Rolling back over onto his back Walsh stared up at the ceiling for a moment while he collected his thoughts. Usually he didn't mind the morning and he often jumped up before his alarm clock even went off. However the stress of this case was keeping him up at night and it was starting to take a toll. He had worked high profile cases in the past but never one that involved a fellow Agent as a victim. If he could just nail down one other solid piece of evidence he'd be far more confident about taking this case to trial. As it was the fact that Walker was out on bail despite Peter's positive ID was not a good sign.

Knowing he wasn't getting anywhere just laying around Walsh got out of bed and headed directly for the shower. The half removed tattoo that adorned his upper arm was itching like crazy this morning and it didn't appreciate the harsh water spray. He had gotten the poorly done tattoo during a deep undercover mission as part of his final initiation into the violent gang. It had taken a year of living a life of drugs and lies to get to the heart of the drug ring, but it had been a major triumph for the Agency in the end. Removing the prison style tattoo with laser treatments was actually taking longer than bringing down the nation wide drug cartel itself. He had gone in two weeks ago for yet another painful session and the skin was still recovering. As much as he disliked the laser he was determined to erase the mark the case had left on him.

Getting out the shower Walsh gingerly patted his arm dry before getting the rest of the water off his skin. Going over to his closet he spent a little more time than usual picking through his suits and ties, the more the case weighed on his mind the harder small decisions became. Selecting a black pinstripe with a deep gray tie Walsh quickly got dressed. Stepping out into his small apartment living room with the connected kitchen he decided against making coffee since the street vendors did a better job at it anyway.

"Okay, Baby, I gotta go to work. Daddy will be home tonight."

Walsh leaned over and gave the large silver tabby cat sitting on the back of the couch a kiss on the top of the head. Folding her ears down the cat meowed in protest of the affection. Chuckling at the cat Walsh headed down to the garage to get his car. Making his way to Harlem Walsh parked his car in a no parking zone and trusted his Federal plates to keep his car from being towed. Stopping at a cart on the street for a cup of black coffee Walsh made his way down a residential street. Coming to a large apartment complex Walsh stood to the side of the steps leading in and out and sipped at his coffee. The few people that passed by him eyed him warily. Usually if he was going to be heading into the outskirts of Harlem he would have dressed a little less like an obvious FBI Agent, but he didn't do undercover work any more. About halfway through his coffee his target stepped out of the apartment complex. Throwing his coffee in a near by trash can Walsh straightened his tie and got his badge out of his breast pocket so that he'd have it at the ready.

"Asha?" Walsh called. "Asha Williams?"

Asha had made it about ten feet down the sidewalk but she froze at hearing her name. Turning around she stared at Walsh with an expression that kept switching between anxiety and irritation. Walsh smiled at her but didn't step closer.

"Miss Williams, can we talk?"

"That depends on who you are." Asha said firmly.

"Agent Alan Walsh," Walsh flashed her his badge "FBI."

Walsh was pleased that Asha relaxed slightly at learning who he was. Walsh wondered if Walker's lawyers had been hassling Asha for any information she might have one Peter through Elizabeth. Walsh thought that she was going to be cooperative considering her reaction so far but when he approached she tensed again.

"It's okay, Asha, you're not in any trouble."

"How can I help you, Agent?" Asha asked in a tone that implied she'd rather tell him to go away.

"Right to business, I like that." Walsh smiled. "I'll cut right to the chase as well then: your boss is a kidnapping murdering psychopath and I need your help catching him."

"What? No…"

"I'm sorry, that was a little strong. I haven't been sleeping well. However, it is true."

"I know what people have been saying, but..." Asha shook her head in denial. "No, no, this is crazy. Light for the Lost is a wonderful organization, we help people, we don't…"

"Stop saying 'we', this isn't about 'we', this is about Walker." Walsh interrupted. "I'm sorry, I know you care for your organization and I know how hard you work to try to ease people's pain, but the truth of the matter is that you're just a cover story."

"No, please." Asha took a step back as her eyes brightened with tears.

"It's okay, Asha, no one is blaming you. I have vetted you inside out and I know you've never hurt anyone. But the money you've been using to help others is soaked in blood. Walker is washing money through Light for the Lost, and now he's kidnapped and tortured a Federal Agent along with multiple civilians."

"If you know all this then why haven't you just arrested Mr. Walker?"

"We have, but we are having a hard time making it stick."

"Why?"

"Honestly, because he's is rich and white."

The brief flash of anger that passed over Asha's delicate dark features was exactly what Walsh had been hoping for. He knew it couldn't be easy for Asha to accept the idea that she had devoted the better half of her life to an organization that was based on a lie but he was hoping that she would start to come around. Reaching up Asha brushed a stray tear away. Walsh swore internally when Asha suddenly shook her head and took a step back.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't…I can't help you. If you're wrong I might still end up destroying Light for the Lost. If the media or even just our investors gets wind that Mr Walker is under this kind of investigation and even if he's innocent…"

"He's not."

"You can't know that, if you knew that you wouldn't be standing her talking to me." Asha said stubbornly. "I'm no one in the organization, I have nothing to do with the financial side, there is no reason to ask someone like me for help."

"I'm not going to lie, I'm talking to you because I'm a little desperate. I have a case against Walker, but it's not bulletproof and I want bulletproof. If I could gain access to Walker's computer through an insider…"

"If you've arrested him why don't you just have a warrant for the computer?"

"The charges against him at this point are civil and are separate from his business, search and seizer laws are extraordinarily complicated and convoluted and Walker has an army of lawyers. If I could get into his office computer I know I could at the very least lock him away for money laundering even if I don't find my missing piece for the rest of my case."

"What makes you think he'd even keep records like that."

"Because they always do. Men like Walker are dragons and they love to count their gold."

Walsh was worried that Asha still didn't look convinced. Slowly realizing that Walker may have been using her was opening her up to the idea that others, including Walsh, might be doing the same. Walsh could see it in the way she was closing her body language that she was close to shutting him out. It would be easier for her to just go back to work, back to her life, and just wait to see what happened when the dust settled. Walsh was always amazed by how powerful human denial could be when faced with a reality that they didn't want to face.

"I'm sorry, Agent, I can't, I…"

"You became friends with Agent Burke's wife, Elizabeth, right?" Walsh interrupted.

"Agent, don't…"

"Were you ever in her house?" Walsh asked as he pulled out his phone and put a complicated passcode into it. "Did you ever see a picture of her husband? Do you know what Peter looks like?"

Asha nodded.

"Well, this is him now."

Even though he shouldn't be showing Asha the case photo on his phone he decided it was worth bending the rules to bring her over to his side. Asha's eyes widened in horror as she brought her hand up to her mouth to cover her sharp gasp. The photo was one of a series that had been taken as evidence while they had been working to clean Peter up after surgery. With his ivory pale skin smeared with blood and grime with a tube down his throat to keep him breathing he looked beyond saving.

"How can I help?" Asha asked quietly.

"I need you to attached something to the back of Walker's computer that will give me access to it."

"I can't just go into his office when he's not there."

"But he would see you if you ask right?"

"Yes."

"Good. He usually leaves the office at five so at four forty-five I want you to ask to see him, at four fifty I'm going to make an entrance. I don't have a warrant for Light for the Lost so he'll be able to ask me to leave, but I'm going to make a serious distraction of myself in the process and that's when you plant the device. Okay?"

Asha looked nervous but she nodded.

"You're going to do great." Walsh smiled encouragingly. "I have to go. If for whatever reason my distraction doesn't work or if Walker doesn't let you into his office just walk away. Got it?"

"Got it."

"When this is all over I'll tell Elizabeth how much you helped us."

Asha smiled warmly. Walsh gave her one of his business cards and instructions for her to go about the rest of her day as normally as possibly. Walsh knew this was a bit of a desperate move but it was also a fairly low risk one. With everything set with Asha Walsh headed to the Federal Building to comb through the piles of evidence dragged up from out of the Labyrinth. As Peter has suspected so far none of the other men taken out of the Labyrinth were flipping on Walker. Sitting down at his desk Walsh started going through everything from scratch in hopes of finding a missing connection. Two hours later and no better off than when he started Walsh sighed heavily as he rubbed at his tired eyes. Before he could get the motivation to get back to work the SAC of Violent Crimes knocked on his door.

"Alan, I've got a kidnapping case for you…"

"What? No. Jeff, please, you know I'm working the Burke/Caffrey case. I have no extra time or attention span for another case right now."

Rather than say anything further Jeff just held up a 8 by 10 photograph of the victim. Seeing Ethan's striking resemblance to Neal Walsh jumped to his feet and threw his sports jacket on before snatching the file away from his boss.

"I'm on it."


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I'm still really enjoying writing this, thank you all for following along in this increasingly long journey! Hugs!

Chapter Seventy-eight

"Nobody move…nobody breathe…"

With a look of pure deliberation Neal poured all of his concentration into the task at hand. This was his tenth attempt and it was the first time he'd even come close to succeeding. Taking a deep breath and holding it Neal fought to steady the quivering tremors in his hands that were main cause of his repeated failure. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his arm over Elizabeth's shoulders Peter watched with all the attention of a viewing the last seconds of a close sports game. Lounging on the couch Mozzie watched with a doubtful expression having already voiced his concern about Neal's strategy on several occasions. However with victory a heartbeat away a palpable silence had fallen over the room.

Unable to stand the tension that had suddenly thickened the air Satchmo got to his padded feet. Peter tried to catch the dog's collar but the Labrador was too quick. With all of his focus on his hands Neal didn't even notice the predator approach. Like Godzilla destroying Tokyo Satchmo nosed the delicately arranged house of cards Neal was building on the floor and toppled it before Neal could place the final card on the roof.

"Oh, bad dog, Satchmo!" Neal laughed.

Wagging his tail at the attention Satchmo stepped on the pile of cards littering the floor as he pressed his head against Neal's chest in an open invitation for him to scratch behind his ears. Dropping the last card Neal laughed again and ruffled the fur around Satchmo's neck. Peter smiled at hearing Neal truly laugh without any of the anxiety or sorrow that had infected any minor chuckling he had done over the past few months. Also pleased to be getting a positive response out of Neal Satchmo pushed harder against him and nearly succeeded in tipping him over as well. Getting to his feet Peter came over and mock rescued Neal from his dog.

"Easy there, Satchmo, Neal doesn't weigh much more than you do these days."

"I do feel like I wouldn't have a chance against a stiff breeze anymore."

"You could barely take one on before all this." Peter chuckled mockingly.

"You both need to eat more." Mozzie pointed out.

"I agree." Elizabeth nodded.

"Ugh." Neal stuck his tongue out. "I don't think I can stomach much more hospital food."

"I am getting a little tired of unsalted chicken broth." Peter agreed.

"And that paste that they keep trying to pass off as mashed potatoes." Neal wrinkled his nose.

"Knock, knock." Dr Azarov called from just out side the door.

Peter looked to Neal hoping he would invite the doctor inside and was pleased when Neal didn't hesitate to do so. Helping them with seeing the sky had gone a long way to getting Neal to trust the doctor since she had proved herself as a fellow rule breaker.

"I have good news for you both." Azarov smiled. "If you two are comfortable with it we can let you go home tomorrow."

"I'm comfortable with it." Neal answered instantly.

"There would be a few conditions to your discharge." Azarov added in a practiced paternal voice.

"A conditional release," Mozzie smiled "you're used to that Neal."

"I am and I'm ready to agree to just about anything at this point."

Azarov laid out the conditions of both of them continuing with their antibiotics, setting up follow up appointments, sticking to a diet plan, and above all agreeing to return to the ER at the first hint of a fever or increased pain. Peter felt strong enough to be leaving but he worried about Neal considering he'd only really accepted medical attention for twenty-four hours.

"Agent Burke?" Azarov asked concerned. "Are you okay with all this? I don't want you feeling like we are kicking you out. If you feel you need more time under observation or even if you'd rather go to a rehab instead of directly home I can make either option happen."

"I am *not* under any circumstances going to a rehab." Neal said firmly. "Peter, please, it's time to go home."

"I agree." Peter gave in not wanting to start another fight.

"I will get everything ready." Azarov said.

"I need to get the house ready." Elizabeth said as she looked down at Satchmo. "There's still bits of couch everywhere, and there's almost nothing to eat in the fridge."

"I have a handout for you on how to best feed these two over the next few months." Azarov assured. "Recovering from starvation is no easy task and too much too soon can be dangerous."

"I'll help you get everything set up." Mozzie volunteered. "Neal, I'll swing by your place as well."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth looked to Peter as if she expected him to say something when Mozzie mentioned Neal's apartment but he just smiled at her reassuringly. Elizabeth smiled understandingly before giving him a kiss and taking Mozzie up on his offer for help. Elizabeth and Mozzie took Satchmo with them and although he was reluctant to leave at first he perked up at the prospect of a walk. With everyone else gone Peter turned his attention to Neal who was still sitting on the floor among the scattered cards. Neal was improving but there were still a lot of little things that still worried Peter like the fact that Neal still made himself comfortable on the floor rather than on the furniture.

"It's going to be a long night," Neal chuckled "I can't wait to get out of here."

"About that…"

"Peter?" Neal asked nervously.

"Neal, I think you should come home with Elizabeth and I."

"What?"

"Not forever, but just at first. Please."

"I think you might want to run this by Elizabeth first." Neal deflected.

"I have."

"Peter, thank you, really, but I'll be okay. I promise."

"It's not just you, Neal, I'd feel better if you were with us. I don't want you to be alone if you start to hallucinate again."

"I haven't hallucinated in like...twelve hours. That's not very impressive is it?"

"No, and it's been closer to nine hours."

"How about we meet in the middle on this? I'll have Mozzie stay with me."

Peter was trying to decide if Neal's idea was an acceptable compromise or not when Agent Walsh announced himself at the door. Seizing the opportunity to take Peter's indecision as an answer in his favor Neal told Walsh he could join them. Walsh stepped into the room with a thick file folder in his hands with a color coding on it that turned Peter's stomach as he instantly recognized as a kidnapping case. Walsh glanced around the room before furrowing his brow at finding Neal sitting on the floor surrounded in playing cards. Peter stepped closer and offered his hand to Neal to help him up.

"Do you need me to leave?" Neal asked Walsh once he was on his feet.

"No, actually I came here to ask you a favor."

"What do you need?"

"I need another drawing of Jake, on that doesn't look so…psychotic."

"I can do that, but I won't look as much like him." Neal said only half jokingly.

"Why would you need that?" Peter asked suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Agent, I can't tell you."

"I understand." Peter nodded. "Neal, do you mind doing the drawing?"

"I can do it. I just need…" Neal stopped when Walsh pulled a few sheets of paper out of the file in his hands along with a pen from his pocket. "Thank you. Give me a few minutes."

"Take your time. I need it basically expressionless."

"I'll try."

Neal took the pages and sat down on the floor again so that he'd have a flat surface to work on. While Neal recreated his previous drawing of Jake without the aggressive expression Peter looked at Walsh expectantly. There was only one reason that the Agent would need a more neutral expression drawing. Walsh looked at Peter and nodded slightly before opening the file and casually flipping through it as if he was reading it himself. Since Peter wasn't a currently instated Agent he couldn't be legally involved in the new case file and Agent Walsh couldn't directly share any information about it with him. However when Walsh turned to the victim's photo Peter put all the pieces into place. Peter looked sharply up at Walsh who nodded again. Peter sighed heavily, he hated being proven right about Jake.

Neal looked up from his half finished drawing at Peter in concern. Peter flashed him a somewhat unconvincing smile. Neal narrowed his eyes for a moment but didn't press Peter for an explanation and just went back to completing the drawing. The new image of Jake that Neal was working on still had a menacing glint in his dark eyes but it was far more like a conventional police drawing than the original.

Peter shifted his weight as his internal agitation started to manifest itself physically. Seeing that he had upset Peter Walsh flipped a few more pages until he came to a blank interview form and he smiled. Peter relaxed as he realized that they must have found Jake's latest victim alive and that Walsh's next move was to go interview him. He had feared that Walsh was just using the cover story of needing a new drawing of Jake to tell Peter about the lead but now he knew he also needed it to show the victim. It wouldn't be fair to show the young man in the file the snarling version of his attacker for him to identify.

Peter wanted to hold out hope that Jake wasn't responsible for the kidnapping but the fact that Walsh had been given the case and that victim looked so much like Neal told him it was likely Jake. His real concern was that now that Jake had somehow lost his Neal replacement that he was likely to go out and find another.

"Okay." Neal said as he got to his feet. "Best I can do."

"It's perfect, thank you Mr. Caffrey."

"Neal." Neal corrected.

"Thank you, Neal." Walsh said sincerely as he took the drawing and carefully added it to the file. "Peter, please tell your wife that her friend says hello and that she's being very helpful."

"Friend?"

"She'll know what it means."

"I'll tell her. Thank you, Alan."

Walsh smiled brightly and offered both men a quick nod of respect before heading back out. Left behind Peter couldn't help but wish that he was able to be a more active participate in the case. He hadn't really given any thought to if he'd return to being an Agent once he recovered but he found himself champing at the bit now so he hoped that was a good sign that he'd be ready again when the time came.

"Why do I get the feeling that Agent Walsh didn't really need that drawing?" Neal asked knowingly.

"He needed it." Peter assured.

"Yeah, but he could have had one of the FBI artists use my original to make a new one."

"Maybe he didn't think of it." Peter said evasively.

"Peter." Neal said in a warning tone.

"Okay." Peter sighed. "...Agent Walsh wanted me to know that they may have a lead on Jake."

"Really?" Neal asked hopefully. "Wait, why couldn't he talk to us about it? We're the main witnesses."

"Not in this case." Peter said sadly.

"Wha…oh no, Jake kidnapped someone didn't he? That's why they need the drawing, to see if any witnesses recognize him."

"It's for the victim to identify him, they found him."

"But not Jake."

"No."

As much as Peter appreciated Walsh coming to update him on the case he hated seeing the effect it was having on Neal. Beginning to panic at the thought of Jake still being out in the world and actively tormenting people Neal started struggling for breath. When Neal turned to seek out the corner of the room Peter reached out and stopped him. When Neal didn't prove stable enough to stay on his feet Peter backed him up to get him to sit on the small CCU couch to prevent him from sitting on the floor again. Sitting down next to him Peter put his arm over Neal's shoulders to help calm him. Neal swore under his heavy breath as he started shaking.

"Breathe, Neal."

"This is my fault."

"What? No, no. This is on Jake."

"But I could have prevented this, I had a chance to kill him. None of this would have ever happened."

"You're right, none of this ever would have happened." Peter said seriously. "We wouldn't be sitting here. I would never have seen Elizabeth again because we never would have escaped the Labyrinth if you'd killed Jake."

"Peter…"

"And even if we had you would have never forgiven yourself. You did the right thing."

"But he's still hurting people and we are the ones who let him out."

"That's still faulty logic, Neal."

"I know." Neal admitted with a sigh. "What are we going to do?"

"We are going to focus on the fact that we get to go home tomorrow."


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter Seventy-nine

"Maybe that wasn't such a great idea."

Looking down at the drawing of Jake that Neal had done for him Walsh felt a shiver in his spine at the predatory gleam in the Jake's dark eyes. He had used Neal as a bit of an excuse to keep Peter in the loop without technically breaking any laws, but he'd neglected to take into account how hard the request might be on Neal. With a fellow Agent involved in the case Walsh was finding it more difficult to keep to the book and keep everything strictly professional. He hadn't been treating Neal or Peter for that matter like the victims he was used to dealing with. However the way Peter had reacted to the news about Jake and seeing the way Neal had drawn him even when trying to make it expressionless was a reminder to Walsh that he needed to tread more carefully with the pair in the future.

Slipping the drawing of Jake back into the file he was carrying Walsh stepped up to the Nursing Station to announce himself before being directed to Ethan's room. If where Ethan had been found was any indication Jake hadn't stayed close to the Labyrinth and as a result Ethan had been taken to a hospital across town from where Peter and Neal were recovering. In fairly stable condition Ethan was on the regular recovery floor with one of the hospital's own security guards standing outside.

Flashing his badge at the guard Walsh was allowed inside the small room. The battered man that closely resembled Neal had the head of the bed up so he could sit up and cradle the young girl, maybe two or three years old, curled up in his lap. There was an anxious looking man with blonde hair sitting in a chair next to the bedside. The blonde man looked up at Walsh and instantly got to his feet in a defensive stance. With his partner on high alert Ethan looked around with a bit of a delay in his reactions that was likely due to anti-anxiety medications. Walsh flashed the pair a professional reassuring smile before holding his badge up for them.

"Special Agent Alan Walsh, FBI. How are you feeling, Mr. Talis?"

"Please, call me Ethan." Ethan smiled as he looked down at the child sleeping in his lap and up at the man at his side. "I'm better now. This is my husband Brian, and our daughter Sophie."

"It's good to meet you." Walsh nodded. "Ethan, I know you're already spoken with the police, but I do have a few more questions."

"I don't understand," Brian said in a highly passive aggressive tone "I could barely get the police to care when Ethan first went missing, now suddenly the FBI is involved too?"

"Brian, please." Ethan chastised.

"No," Brian said in frustration "when I went to the police and they found out we were gay it was just automatically assumed that you were just 'stepping out' of our marriage as if…"

Brian stopped when Sophie started to stir. Ethan reached down and smoothed out her strawberry blonde hair but it didn't keep her from waking up. Looking around the strange hospital room and seeing Walsh Sophie buried her face against Ethan's chest to hide. Ethan grimaced in pain but kept quiet. Brian still looked angry but he didn't want to fight in front of their daughter.

"Brian maybe you should take Sophie."

"Okay." Brian nodded as he calmed for his daughter's sake. "I love you."

"I love you too."

After gathering Sophie up in his arms Brian flashed Walsh a defiant look as if challenging him to discredit his and Ethan's relationship. Having no problem with the unconventional family Walsh didn't react. Clearly stressed Brian left the room reluctantly.

"I'm sorry about Brian," Ethan apologized "this has been really hard on him."

"I can't imagine." Walsh said sympathetically.

"I…uh…I'm not even really sure how I'm doing with it." Ethan said suddenly looking close to tears now that he didn't have to put on a brave face for his loved ones. "I'm just glad it's over. I honestly thought Jake was going to kill me."

"Jake?" Walsh asked surprised. "He told you his name? That wasn't in the police report."

"I was still in a bit of a daze when I was talking to the police," Ethan admitted "I don't…I don't even remember much about what I said to them, I just wanted to see Sophie and Brian."

"That's understandable. I know it's difficult but do you think you can you tell me about what happened?"

"I…uh…I was coming home really late, about 2am, I'd had a conference call with Japan. I was waiting for the subway and I saw a man down on the tracks, he seemed to just come out of nowhere. I rushed over and helped him up onto the platform, once up he started to thank me but when he actually looked up at me…I…I don't know…he just froze and stared at me with a look of shock or maybe even fear. I don't know, before I knew what was happening he…he attacked me." Retelling the story was making Ethan increasingly anxious as his sapphire eyes brightened with tears. "I…I was just trying to help, I didn't even think he might be dangerous, but it all turned into a nightmare so quickly. I…I…"

"It's okay." Walsh assured. "Take a break."

'Th..thank you." Ethan said sounding miserable.

"Tell me about Sophie."

"She's everything to me." Ethan smiled warmly. "Brian and I adopted her a year ago, we were nervous but I can't imagine life without her. That does remind me though, Jake didn't seem to understand my phone, he thought I should have pictures in my wallet. Everything about him was…not quite right."

"Can you elaborate?"

Ethan visibly hesitated to continue as he started breathing more heavily under the stress of the memory. Walsh hated pressing him but he wanted to know as much as he could about Jake's mental state. It was a positive sign to have learned that Ethan had been a crime of opportunity instead of Jake having actively sought him out. Walsh still wasn't sure what more he could do to find Jake but at this point any information he could get was better than nothing.

"He was very physical, but at the same time not really sexual." Ethan said quietly as he started to rub at his bandaged wrists. "He was always running his fingers through my hair, he would curl up against me to sleep, and he'd get angry when I didn't look at him. I didn't know what to do, he'd go into a rage one minute and the next he was putting his ear against my chest to listen to my heart. I also think he might be sick."

"You mean physically?"

"Yes." Ethan nodded. "His skin was very warm, and he often winced in what looked like pain. There was also this…scent on him, like…rot."

Walsh made a mental note to ask Peter if he might now the source of Jake's apparent infection. Due to their own medical and mental instability neither Peter nor Neal had given proper full statements to anyone about exactly what had happened. The broad strokes of their captivity were obvious and literally written out on their skin, but Walsh had been filling in some of the details on his own from other evidence found in the Labyrinth. Learning that Jake was possibly critically was a huge step in the right direction since he might eventually break down and seek help at an ER. Even though he no longer felt he needed to upset Ethan further by showing him Neal's drawing he could have it faxed to all the local hospitals for staff to keep an eye out for him.

"Can you tell me anything about where he took you? Do you think you could draw a map back to it?"

"I'm sorry, Agent, I was so scared I just ran. I wandered around for hours before I found help."

"It's okay, I doubt he's still there." Walsh said. "One more question and I'll let you get back to your family. How did you escape?"

"I didn't." Ethan said simply. "Jake let me go."

"Just like that? He lost interest?"

"No…uh…" Ethan looked around nervously to make sure they were alone. "I kissed him."

Walsh couldn't hide his look of surprise.

"I was desperate to try anything." Ethan said sounding mortified. "I'm not sure what I was thinking, but he was all over me and I…I didn't know what else to do. At first I thought I'd made a fatal mistake. He got so angry."

"And then he let you go?"

"He literally threw me out."

"Okay, thank you, this has all been very helpful." Walsh reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a business card. "If you think of anything don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you." Ethan took the card with a shaky hand. "I…I don't have to worry about him coming after me again, do I?"

"No." Walsh replied confidently. "I know this sounds cliche but you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Walsh didn't add 'with the wrong colored eyes' to the list but he knew that it was likely the strongest factor in his abduction. Ethan nodded at hearing that he was safe but he still understandably looked on edge. Walsh thanked him again before leaving. Brain was waiting out in the hall with his daughter in his arms protectively. Holding Sophie closer Brian stepped up to Walsh with an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, Agent, it's just…"

"It's okay." Walsh interrupted.

"Do you think you're going to catch this guy?"

"He's at the top of my personal most wanted list." Walsh replied seriously.

Satisfied by the response Brian thanked him before heading back to his husband. Walsh sighed and shook his head sadly knowing that even if they did catch Jake Ethan was never going to know or get his day in court. At the moment Jake was a major piece in the case against Walker and if he was brought into FBI custody there was going to be a record setting amount of deal making if he agreed to back Peter up and testify against Walker. Jake wasn't just going to walk free but he did have a unique opportunity to end up in WitSec custody instead of just being thrown behind bars.

"Assuming I can find him." Walsh muttered to himself.

Not really any closer to Jake Walsh pulled his phone out to check the time and found it was barely noon. He was still mostly banking on Asha's help right now for bringing Walker down for white collar crimes if nothing else and he wasn't about to miss his appointment with her this afternoon. Walsh was just about to put his phone back in his pocket when it rang showing a number from his office.

"Walsh."

"Hey, Alan, how's your day?" Tony from the lab asked.

"I've had worse." Walsh answered truthfully. "You got some good news for me?"

"Not really. We identified one of the branded bodies brought in on the Labyrinth case. Calvin Miller, reported missing just over three months ago, next of kin is his mother Judith Miller."

"No, no, I'm not…"

"Boss says it's your case."

"Burke/Caffrey is my case not…"

"Sorry, Alan. I'll text you the address."

Before Walsh could protest further Tony hung up on him only to have an address almost instantly spring up on his text. Swearing under his breath Walsh looked down and made sure the tie he was wearing was an appropriate dark color for his next task. Looking suitably somber and having several hours before he met with Asha Walsh didn't really have any good excuses. Walking back to his car Walsh headed across town with a sick feeling in his stomach. He had done several 'next of kin' notifications in his career and they had always been painful. Getting to the small walk up in a run down neighborhood Walsh knocked on the door. A tired looking older woman answered the door. Looking at the Agent on her doorstep a deeply sorrowful look fell over her face.

"Mrs. Miller?"

"You found my son, didn't you?" She asked in a near whisper.

"We did." Walsh confirmed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Mrs. Miller sighed as tears streaked her face. "It's good to at least know he's at rest. In my heart I knew he was dead but the nagging uncertainty has been a constant source of pain. At least now I know he's not suffering."

Walsh just nodded. He wasn't used to having a family member already through most of the grieving process. In the past he was usually caught up in either the anger or the denial stages but it seemed like someone had helped Mrs. Miller through her son's disappearance to the point of acceptance before he'd even arrived.

"Can I…can I see him?"

"That's not advisable." Walsh said gently. "Once the investigation is over it would be best to coordinate with the FBI for cremation before the remains are returned."

"So it was murder?"

"The investigation is still open." Walsh answered evasively.

"I understand." Mrs. Miller said sadly.

The knot in Walsh's stomach tightened. Although she had initially taken the news very well he could tell that as she was getting a chance to process it the reality of her son being gone was starting to catch up with her.

"Do you have any support?" Walsh asked. "I can stay until they arrive if you'd like to call them."

"Actually I do have someone, but I will go to them."

"I can give you a ride to their house."

"Thank you. It's actually a support organization: Light for the Lost."

"Light for the Lost?"

"Have you heard of them?"

"Yes I have."


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter Eighty

"Home sweet, home, eh?"

"Yeah."

Neal had meant to sound more enthusiastic but he couldn't help the hollowness in his lackluster response. Mozzie looked at him with an apprehensive concern that only served to add a layer of irritation to Neal's dark mood. Already battling a slow boiling anxiety the last thing Neal wanted right now was Mozzie worrying about his every action and affect. Taking a deep breath Neal tried to remind himself that Mozzie was only trying to help and that he was likely just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. Mozzie was used to handling Neal when he was angry or even depressed but his current state was uncharted waters. Unsure of how to react to Neal's obvious distress Mozzie looked like a deer in headlights that was standing on egg shells.

"I'm sorry, Mozzie." Neal forced a smile and found that it actually did help him relax. "It is good to be home, I'm just tired."

"Understandable." Mozzie nodded thoughtfully. "How about dinner now so you can get to bed early? Elizabeth must have cooked all last night, she stocked your fridge with a full week's worth of meals all individually packaged and made to the doctor's orders."

"That was sweet of her, but I'm not very hungry. Actually right now a glass of wine sounds really good."

"Alcohol?" Mozzie asked warily. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"Mozzie." Neal said in a warning tone.

"Red or white?" Mozzie asked rather than argued.

"Red."

"I'm on it, go get comfortable."

Looking around the apartment Neal found Mozzie's suggestion far more easier said than done. Physically exhausted but with more mental energy than he knew what to do with Neal wasn't even feeling comfortable in his own skin. Looking around the apartment that he'd lived in for years he couldn't help but feel like none of it was familiar. Standing indecisively in the middle of the apartment with a growing knot in his stomach Neal was starting to worry that he may have made a mistake declining Peter's offer to stay with him. Peter had worked hard to try and convince Neal to come home with him, but at the time Neal had honestly believed that getting to his own space was the only thing that was going to make him feel better.

Grinding his teeth in frustration Neal reminded himself he couldn't allow his dependency on Peter continue, it wasn't healthy for either one of them. Now was as good a time as any to learn to feel safe on his own again. Mozzie clanking glasses in the kitchen reminded Neal that he wasn't alone, but as much as he hated to admit it he was feeling that Mozzie might be part of the problem. Having to put on a brave facade for him was quickly starting to wear on Neal. If he truly had the place to himself Neal felt he might have a shot at some real relief by just laying down on the bed and closing his eyes for a while or better yet maybe even under the bed.

Neal had thought the last part in jest at himself but glancing over at one of the corners of the room he found himself wondering if he would feel better with his back against one of them. With adrenaline pouring into his blood despite a complete lack of threat in the room Neal turned all his focus on trying to quell his rising nausea. With his heart racing painfully Neal had to fight to keep from panting. Swallowing down the acrid taste of bile Neal was proud that he managed to not start dry heaving. With the peak of the panic attack slowly passing Neal relaxed slightly.

"…Neal?" Mozzie called in a tone that suggested he had actually called Neal's name a new times before being heard. "Neal, I think we should call Peter."

"What? Why?"

"Because you haven't moved in five minutes."

Neal looked down at the hardwood floor like it was to blame for his lack of forward progress. Ignoring the fact that Mozzie was likely right Neal just shook his head. Walking over to Mozzie Neal took the bottle of wine that Mozzie had set the corkscrew in but hadn't actually opened. Neal growled in irritation as he struggled to free the cork. Mozzie silently offered to help but Neal took a step back, determined to do it himself. Eventually wining Neal poured out of a glass of the deep red wine and very suddenly wished he had chosen a white instead. The deep red color wasn't really the same crimson hue as blood but it was close enough to remind him of it. With concrete gray and blood red having been the two dominate colors in his life lately the subtleties of the various shades with the spectrum were lost on him at the moment. The slight metallic taste that was still plaguing him didn't help as he stared at the wine settling into the glass.

"I really don't think you should be drinking that." Mozzie said noting that Neal was hesitating but not guessing the reason for that hesitation correctly. "Might be a little strong."

"I've been drinking basically pure ethanol lately." Neal said bitterly.

"That doesn't mean it was a good idea."

It hadn't been Neal's idea or even his choice at the time when Jake had been forcing the liquor down his throat. In defiance of Mozzie and Jake Neal knocked back half the glass before realizing his friend was right. Coughing slightly on the dry wine Neal jerked away when Mozzie tried to take the rest of the glass away from him. Trying to prove that he could be a little more civilized about it Neal took his next sip more carefully as if he was enjoying the flavor. However it didn't taste good, despite being one of his favorite vintages Neal was finding it repugnant. Neal tried to tell himself that it was just the color that was turning his stomach and not the association between the alcohol and Jake at one of his more abusive moments. In truth it was both. Barely muscling down another sip through clenched teeth Neal knew he was being recklessly stubborn.

"Neal, seriously, put that down. You're going to throw up."

Neal knew Mozzie was only just trying to help and more than that he was also right, but that didn't keep him from getting angry. Despite being kitten weak when trying to open the bottle Neal now put the glass down on the kitchen counter with far too much force and snapped the stem of the glass. Mozzie snatched the rest of the glass away from Neal as if he was afraid that Neal might suddenly squeeze the glass itself too tight and shatter it in his hand.

"Why don't you just sit down for a while." Mozzie suggested. "It's been a long day."

It really hadn't been all that long a day they simply hadn't been discharged from the hospital until later in the afternoon because there had been a lot of paperwork and details to work out before releasing them. The most complicated of which was determining exactly where he stood on his prison sentence and who actually had the rights of his custody. Even though it wasn't his fault that he'd been taken off anklet for the past few months according to all his very carefully worded contracts with the FBI his custody had technically transferred back to the US Marshals. Luckily for Neal the Federal Marshals were not interested in getting tangled up in his case and when Hughes asked them for a new contract they were more than happy to grant it. Unfortunately dues to his past Neal had already been categorized as an extremely high flight risk which had infuriatingly slowed down and complicated the process of getting him assigned back to the FBI.

It had been maddening to be trapped at the hospital in a sticky web of red tape, but to Hughes' credit he had worked tirelessly to slash through it. Neal particularly appreciated that Hughes was able to get him a new deal that although very conditional did not include having to wear an anklet. It had surprised Neal to learn that Hughes had even officially taken on the role of his legal handler instead of having Jones or Diana do it. Being his handler had taken a level of trust that Neal didn't think Hughes had in him. By being the one who had both requested Neal be off anklet and being the Agent responsible for him Hughes was definitely putting his job on the line for him. An Agent simply assigned to Neal wouldn't have the same kind of expectations as a Special Agent in Charge and Division Leader when it came to keeping him in check. If Neal ran now Hughes would be likely be forced into retirement at the best or flat out fired at the worst.

_'If I took you now they'd all think you'd just run off.'_

Neal weld his eyes shut at Jake suddenly leering threats in his mind again. It hadn't been a full hallucination, more of just an anxiety producing thought about a possible future. 'Jake' was right, if Neal disappeared now it might be assumed that he had left on his own. The FBI wouldn't put as much energy into finding just him as they had put into finding Peter. The FBI didn't stand for one of their own going missing, but they couldn't afford to throw everything they had every time a civilian dropped off the map. Neal knew that if Jake somehow got to him now that Peter would never stop trying to find him, but it wouldn't take long before he wouldn't have the support of the FBI to do it. Starting to worry that there might actually be a chance that Jake could find him Neal's blood ran cold.

 _'Of course I'm going to find you.'_ Jake chuckled in the back of Neal's mind. _'I've got nothing better to do, no where else to go. Not to mention I am known and feared by easily half the truly dangerous criminals in New York. You, Peter and York are the only ones who know I'm branded, the rest see me as York's right hand man and enforcer. Once I'm done licking my wounds I'm going to figure that out.'_

Neal snapped his eyes open as he gasped sharply at the realization that he'd just come to for Jake. Although Jake might not think of it immediately himself he was nothing if not a survivor and a clever one at that. Jake had ruled over the Labyrinth like a lion over lambs and once the disorientation of exile through escape wore off he would become a predator again.  Neal knew he was still difficult to find, but it wasn't as impossible as he had been telling himself.

"Neal?" Mozzie asked concerned. "Are you okay?  Are you even with me?"

"The wine was a bad idea." Neal admitted even though the slight intoxication was the least of his problems right now.

"It looks like more than just the wine." Mozzie said bluntly. "Peter…"

"No!" Neal interrupted sharply. "I'm sorry, just, please stop. Peter deserves time to be with Elizabeth without having to constantly worry about me. I have to prove to him that I can make it through the night without him."

 _'Prove it to him?'_ Jake silently mocked. _'You'll be lucky to prove it to yourself.'_

"Alright." Mozzie said begrudgingly. "I just wish I knew how to help you. You're shaking. What can I do for you?"

"Honestly…" Neal hesitated to tell Mozzie to leave even though he was craving some privacy right now.

 _'Just like an injured animal,'_ Jake sneered in disgust _'pushing away help so you can crawl off to die alone. Pathetic, no wonder Peter doesn't trust your life choices.'_

Neal growled in frustration, not at Mozzie but at the demon mocking him in his own head. Not knowing what was going on in Neal's thoughts Mozzie understandably assumed Neal was upset with him.

"Don't tell me to leave, Neal. I'm not leaving you alone, not when you're like this. I can take you back to the hospi…"

"No." Neal said quickly. "I'm not going back and I...I don't want you to leave. I'm sorry, I just…I'm sorry.  I know I'm being difficult."

"You're not being difficult." Mozzie said sympathetically before thinking about it. "Well actually you are, but it's understandable."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, but can you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Sit down before you fall down, and try to eat something. It would be a shame to let of Elizabeth's hard work cooking go to waste."

"Both good idea." Neal nodded trying to accept Mozzie's help even if food was the last thing on his mind right now.

"If you're going to get through the night we need to take it one step at a time."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Sitting down at the small table Neal did feel a little better just getting off his feet. While Mozzie busied himself reheating dinner in the kitchen Neal worked on improving his absent appetite. He looked over at the heavy blanket that Mozzie had put up over the glass patio door and sighed. He and Peter had both come a long way in their light sensitivity already, however the full power of the sun was still painful. They had been given dark polarized sunglasses with small leather blinders at the corners of the eyes, but they weren't supposed to wear them indoors to prevent them from taking a step backwards. They'd spend the next few weeks with progressively lighter lenses and more outdoor exposure until they fully adjusted. Neal had already been told he was going to have a more difficult time with it due to his light eye color.  He was surprised by just how atrophied the muscles that control his irises had become but two months in the poorly lit Labyrinth combined with the near starvation had taken a toll on most of strength. 

Once Mozzie brought food over to the table Neal had to admit that he should have listened to him earlier. Even with the restrictive guidelines she'd been given Elizabeth's cooking was far better than anything the hospital had offered him. Peter had initially tried to get Neal and Mozzie to at least join them for dinner but Neal had declined for a few reasons. It never even occurred to Neal that Peter's multiple attempts to keep them together may not have been entirely altruistic, and that perhaps he was just as nervous about being apart tonight as Neal was.

Eating more than he had in months Neal did have to battle some more nausea but without the anxiety he'd had previously it was easier to manage. Seeing Neal a little more relaxed helped Mozzie as well and it wasn't long before Mozzie was back to his usual talkative self. With no need to really actively participate in the conversation Neal just listened to Mozzie tell him about the events of the past few months. The stream of consciousness way that Mozzie related the details was fairly typical for him but also seemed to show that he had a cathartic need to work through the stress and frustration that he'd gone through. The more of it he relayed the more relaxed and animated Mozzie became about the story and Neal suspected that he had also started to embellish it a little as well proving that he was relaxing.

Neal wished he could gain some of the same relief from just talking, but he doubted that he would ever be able to tell Mozzie anything about what happened in any kind of detail. However listening to Mozzie was having a calming effect as he felt like at the very least he was helping his friend by giving him his attention. Not realizing just how much time had passed it was getting fairly late by the time Mozzie caught up to the present day with his tale. Neal had really only gathered about half of what Mozzie had said but he did appreciate how he had never seemed to give up hope of them being found alive. Unable to stop himself Neal yawed as Mozzie was wrapping up some added details.

"Sorry." Mozzie apologized. "I kinda rambled."

"It's okay." Neal smiled before yawning again.

"Bedtime?"

Mozzie had asked the question in all innocents but even the casual mention of sleep was enough to instantly spike Neal's adrenaline causing his heart to seemingly leap into his throat. The sudden reappearance of his previous anxiety felt more difficult to bear after having just been calm, like the shock of jumping back into cold water after getting warm. With his stomach very slow to digest the relatively large meal Neal worried he might physically be sick even though hours had passed since he'd last eaten. Quickly getting to his feet Neal was frozen in a moment of indecision about if he was going to actually make it all the way to the bathroom or if he should just make a break for the near by kitchen sink.

"Neal?"

Not wanting to be sick in front of Mozzie Neal made the flash decision to head for the bathroom and hoped that he didn't ruin the plush white carpet in the walk in closet along the way. Grateful that Mozzie didn't follow him Neal still felt the need to lock the bathroom door behind him even though he didn't really have the time to spare. Barely making it to his knees in time Neal violently lost most of what he had managed to eat. Gasping for breath through the dry heaving that followed Neal battled to regain control.

Eventually calming his stomach even though his nerves were still singing Neal forced himself back to his feet. Stepping over to the sink Neal turned the facet on and splashed cold water on his face without even thinking about what he was doing. Neal's hydrophobia lashed out at him like a physical force.  Dropped back to the marble floor Neal wrapped his arms over his stomach and doubled over as the dry heaving returned with a vengeance. With his abdominal muscles convulsing powerfully it was nearly impossible to take a deep breath.  The sensation of near asphyxiation dragged him deeper into the memory of nearly drowning at Jake's hand.

 _'I'm sorry, Neal, I know I did this to you.'_ Jake voice rang out sounding genuinely sympathy. _'But don't worry, I'm going to make it right. I'm going to finish what I started.'_

Neal curled up tighter as he reached up to press his forearms against his ears and lace his fingers behind his head in a desperate attempt to shut Jake out. Unfortunately just like in the hospital there was no escape from the delusion. Neal tried to call out for help to save him from the invisible foe but his voice had no breath to support it.

_'It's going to be okay, Neal. When I find you I'm going to put you out of both of our misery.'_


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Sorry about the wait...summer is a busy time! Happy (early) 4th of July!

Chapter Eighty-one

"Good to be home?"

The uncertainty and anxiety in Elizabeth's voice snapped Peter out of the trance he'd fallen into. Upon first entering his living room Peter had instantly been struck by how far away his previous life there felt. Rather than returning after just two months it seemed like it had been closer to two years or even two lifetimes ago. Something about it just didn't feel real, everything was familiar but he had somehow forgotten many of the details of his home during his captivity. The small holes in his memory gave him the sensation of not being quite in the right place, like someone was trying to fool him with a facsimile of his home. Peter felt guilty that his uneasiness had transferred directly to Elizabeth and he turned to her with a warm smile before carding his hand into her hair. Even if the house was unfamiliar she wasn't, he remember everything about her.

"Hon, I was home the second you took my hand in the ER." Peter said sincerely.

A beautiful pink flushed Elizabeth's cheeks as her light blue eyes brightened with tears. With all the emotional strain she had been under lately any shift in mood, even a positive one, caused her to end up on the brink of shedding tears. Struggling with the sting of tears himself Peter pulled Elizabeth into a passionate kiss that she gladly accepted and returned. With his recent lung trauma Peter quickly found himself breathless from the affection. Forced to break off the kiss but unwilling to let her go Peter wrapped his arms around her waist and just held her. Carefully laying her head against Peter's chest Elizabeth close her eyes and sighed contently.

"I missed you." Elizabeth whispered.

"I missed you too."

"It never felt real that you were gone, and I hate to admit this but it doesn't feel all that real now either."

"I know the feeling. I always tried to keep my hope that I'd be home again, however…" Peter didn't finish his dark thought. "It may take some time to feel normal again but I know we will get there."

"I don't even need to feel 'normal'." Elizabeth smiled. "I just need you and against all odds you're here."

"I am." Peter agreed as he held her closer.

Even with her understandably delicate mood Peter was alarmed when Elizabeth suddenly broke down into a heartbreaking weep. Just allowing the release Peter rested his chin over her head as he held her. Sharply reminded of holding Neal this way through their darkest moments Peter couldn't help but worry about him. He hated seeing Elizabeth cry but having her to support was helping him keep his own mood stable as he took on his familiar protective role. As much as Elizabeth helped him Peter feared that Mozzie wasn't going to be able to have a powerful enough calming affect to help Neal tonight. Focusing on Elizabeth for now Peter nuzzled her to help comfort his wife. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth managed to rein herself back in.

"I'm so sorry, Peter, it hurt so much to dream that this moment was possible that I had to stop, I couldn't let myself even pretend I'd see you again." Elizabeth whimpered. "I never should have doubted that you'd find a way back to me."

"It's okay, I never expected or even wanted you to let a wound like that just bleed out for months. You had ever reason to believe that I was gone and you had every right to try and heal yourself."

"Not having any answers made getting past the 'denial' so difficult that I never really did. If I didn't have Mozzie and Asha I don't know what I would have done."

"I knew Mozzie would step up and take care of you, I took a lot of comfort in knowing he was with you." Peter smiled before looking around. "Don't tell him I said that."

"I won't." Elizabeth chuckled.

Peter's smile lit up brighter at hearing Elizabeth's musical laughter. He found himself appreciating how the sound didn't echo hollowly off the walls like every noise in the Labyrinth had. The ringing echo off the concrete had made the dungeon feel that much more cold and dead, but in the warm and increasingly familiar feeling walls of their home the sound of Elizabeth's mirth enveloped him. With sound already on his mind Peter was acutely aware when his stomach suddenly growled. Satchmo had been very patient about sitting next to them but when he heard that his returned Alpha was hungry he jumped up and wagged violently in hopes that dinner was imminent.

"I need to feed my boys." Elizabeth said happily. "I was a little restricted in what I could put together for you but I think you'll like it."

"I love it already."

"You've always been easy to feed."

"Nothing wrong with simple tastes."

"Nothing at all." Elizabeth pushed up on her tip toes and kissed Peter's cheek. "I hope Neal likes what I prepared for him, his pallet is far more discerning."

"It's received a major downgrade lately." Peter assured. "Thank you for doing that for him."

"I wish Neal had come home with us." Elizabeth sighed sadly.

"Me too."

Peter had tried to keep his obvious concern for Neal out of his replied but he failed. Elizabeth flashed him a empathetic smile that was well practiced. This was the most extreme case but far from the first time that Peter had desperately tried to help Neal only to have him pull away. There had been so many problems between them in the past that could have been avoided if Neal was just more willing to accept help.

"Now now, don't judge Neal too harshly." Elizabeth said reading Peter's thoughts. "You're just as stubborn as he is, if not more so, when it comes to accepting help."

"I just want to make sure he's okay."

"Right, but did you tell him the other side of that?"

"What?"

"Did you make it clear to Neal that it would help *you* to have him here?"

"I'm fine. I have you."

"Some days I would love it if that were enough for you, but that's not who you are." Elizabeth smiled mischievously. "The guard dog needs his flock just as much as they need his teeth or else he feels useless."

"You know I really regret telling you about that particular analogy from the therapist." Peter shook his head sadly.

"I think it's adorable and fits you perfectly."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I want Neal here more for me than him. Maybe he was right to go home. We both need to at least try to get back to normal lives and that includes having our own space. I just worry about him hiding his pain from me for my sake. He says he's fine but I know he's not."

"Mozzie won't let him truly suffer, if Neal needs you Moz will call."

Peter wasn't entirely sure that was true knowing how much Neal would protest against Mozzie reaching out on his behalf but he had to accept the situation for now. Wondering what the hold up was on dinner Satchmo started to become a little more persistent about it. In a move towards normalcy Peter offered to feed the dog while Elizabeth prepared dinner for them. It did feel good to sit down to a table to eat rather than the hospital tray. Although as wonderful as Elizabeth's cooking was it still didn't take much for Peter's anxious stomach to start threatening to rebel on him.

"You don't have to finish that." Elizabeth said gently. "Don't make yourself sick."

"I'm sorry, it's wonderful it really is."

"The doctor said for the first few days to have you just eat what you can and after you're a little more settled in we need to really watch your calories and make sure you're getting enough."

"I never imagined that gaining weight would ever be this difficult." Peter said seriously.

"We'll get there."

"We will."

Peter reached across the small kitchen table and took Elizabeth's hand. He couldn't even describe how good it felt to be able to touch her again. Despite all the physical pain and fear that had competed for his attention during his captivity it had always been the ache in his heart from being torn from Elizabeth that consumed his thoughts the most. Being with her in their home again was going a long way to help fade the pain of the struggle it had taken to get to this point.

"The sun will have set by now," Elizabeth noted "we should go outside."

"Absolutely."

Peter had been so far removed from the concept of night and day that it hadn't even occurred to him that it would be dark out. Even in the hospital there had been a severe senses of timelessness since the lights were always low and he hadn't been on any kind of sleep schedule. Even though it probably wasn't very late Peter wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stay awake. However for a chance to step out into some fresh air he'd force his eyes open a little longer.

Satchmo raced around the small private fenced in yard as Peter and Elizabeth enjoyed some silent time together. With Elizabeth leaning her back against him they both watched the ecstatic Labrador race in circles. Peter smiled as the slightly cool night air ruffled his hair that had gotten a little longer than he usually kept it. Looking up didn't really reveal any stars but it still felt good to see up into the open sky that held a faint glow from the city lights. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air Peter sighed happily.

"It's amazing how special something as simple as being in the backyards has become." Elizabeth said.

"Being with you has always been special to me. I didn't have to lose you to know what I had, I've always been in awe that you chose me."

"You did need a little persuading to make that 'first move'."

"I wasn't sure I was good enough."

"I was sure."

Elizabeth twisted around in Peter's arms so that she could steal another kiss. More than happy to accept the affection but also fading fast Peter had a little trouble returning it with his usual energetic passion. Smiling as she broke off the kiss Elizabeth leaned back and looked Peter over critically.

"Bedtime?" Elizabeth asked knowingly.

"That sounds glorious."

"Let's go."

Elizabeth took Peter's hand and lead him back inside. Satchmo didn't need an invitation and bolted back inside, not about to let his pack members out of sight again. Getting to the stairs with the half chewed banister Satchmo ran up the stairs and turned around at the top and wagged encouragingly. Looking up the full flight of stairs Peter suddenly wasn't sure he was going to make it up them. With his broken ribs still painful despite having been wired back in place he was still having trouble catching his breath at times.

"We can sleep down here." Elizabeth said when she noted his hesitation.

"No. I'm not sleeping on the floor ever again. I can make it."

Determined to get to his own bed Peter slowly made it up to the top of the stairs. Panting for breath but feeling accomplished Peter decided against a shower simple because he didn't think he had the energy for it. Now that he wasn't constantly on his guard his adrenaline wasn't keeping him going the way it had in the Labyrinth. Steeping into their bedroom Peter wasn't sure he'd ever seen a more inviting space. Tired herself Elizabeth was quick to start settling in. Peter undid the top button of the shirt Elizabeth had brought him for the trip home but then he froze.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

Peter glanced down nervously at his chest where his brand was hidden by the shirt. Elizabeth visibly tensed as she realized why he was hesitating. Stepping up to Peter it took her a moment to gather up her own courage but she reached out and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. Pushing the fabric aside Elizabeth took her first real look at the white and pink brand over Peter's heart. She had always automatically turned her eyes away from it the few times it had been revealed in the hospital. Peter could see it was hard for her now to see the cruel mark but she seemed to want to try to adjust to it.

Helping Peter shrug the shirt off his shoulders Elizabeth looked over the damage that he had survived. She knew his body better than anyone and that meant the changes were all that more drastic to her. Beyond the stark weight loss she knew which scars should be there and which ones had been recently forced on him. The entire side of his chest around the bandaged surgical site was a deep angry purple. Elizabeth knit her brow as she finally recognized the two horseshoe patterned marks where Peter had been bit. Carefully touching his arm Elizabeth traced her fingertips down to his wrist that was heavily encircled in white bracelet scaring from the zip ties Jake used to wrap around them. Showing off more than his physical scars Peter jerked when a car out on the street revved its engine as it sped past. Tears streaked Elizabeth's cheeks but she still looked up at Peter with a brave smile.

"I can get the brand removed if you want." Peter offered.

"I'm not going to lie, I hate seeing the scars. But only because it hurts to see the aftermath of what you've been through. You don't need to remove the brand for me, you're still every bit the man I love."

Peter smiled and gave Elizabeth another affectionate kiss. Exhausted he didn't need a second invitation when Elizabeth nudged him towards the bed. Settling into bed Peter was quick to pull Elizabeth into his arms. Having gotten used to his place on the bed Satchmo jumped up and curled up against Peter's back. Usually he would have told the dog to get down but he found comfort in having some support at his back after months of sleeping back up against the concrete to cut down on the angles he could be attacked from. Comfortable and more content than he could ever remember being Peter found himself fighting to stay awake to enjoy the sensation of being home longer.

Ultimately failing to stay awake Peter slipped peacefully into a dreamless sleep. He would have easily slept through the night if the quiet of the room hadn't been torn open a few hours later by the ring of their telephone. Disoriented at first Peter gasped sharply and gripped down on Elizabeth when she tried to move to answer the phone thinking that she was Neal and that Jake was trying to take him away. The phone rang twice more and Elizabeth had to call his name before Peter was able to start figuring out his surroundings. Finding himself unwilling to release Elizabeth Peter just reached out over her and picked up the phone himself. Although still somewhat hazy as he brought the phone to his ear he was snapped wide awake at the sound of Mozzie's stressed voice.

"Peter? Neal is going to kill me for calling you but…"

"I'm on my way."


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter Eighty-two

Looking into the neatly organized refrigerator Jake pawed through the various vegetables and green colored juices before finding a glass container with cut up cooked chicken breast mixed with rice and a few scattered vegetables. Further inspection of the fridge yielded a single sparkling wine cooler. Glad to find something with at least a small amount of alcohol Jake pull that out too before closing the large stainless steel door. Leaning against the marble kitchen counter he used the grimy edge of his black shirt to open the drink. Taking a pull at the sweet bubbly drink he curled his lip in disgust.

"Gross."

Putting the bottle down Jake took the lid off the chicken dish and ate a piece with little enthusiasm. The dry unseasoned chicken wasn't any more exciting than the poor excuse for an alcoholic beverage. Hearing the click of nails against the smooth tile floor Jake looked down at the small pug dog that had joined him in the opulent kitchen. Sitting at Jake's feet the dog looked up at him expectantly with his large eyes that didn't really fit well in his flattened face.

"I'm sorry, am I eating your dinner?" Jake asked the dog.

The dog responded by wagging his entire back end as his tightly curled tail didn't really have enough freedom of movement to properly express his emotions. With the rest of the refrigerator completely devoid of meat it made sense that the only chicken dish was actually meant for the dog of the house. Sighing heavily Jake put the glass dish down in front of the dog. Dancing happily the dog shoved his snub nose into the meal with gusto.

Looking around the large empty kitchen Jake wasn't sure what to do next. With the infected brand in his chest pounding in pain he decided to head upstairs to tend to it. Stepping into the modern designed black granite bathroom Jake tried to pull his shirt off only to find it stuck to his skin. Jake's stomach twisted in anxiety at having to reopen the already angry wound. Last time he'd had Neal and Peter's support when they had helped him through the first painful treatment of the devastating wound. Despite everything he had put the pair through they had been there for him when he needed the help most. If they hadn't talked him into letting them treat his burn it would have killed him before they'd even gotten a chance to get out. On his own once again Jake had been struggling to keep the wound clean and his health was failing fast.

After releasing Ethan Jake had laid on the filthy floor of his subterranean hide away and had spent hours just staring up at the cement ceiling. He had been waiting for either Federal Agents or Death to find him. However neither one of them showed up to claim him. Rallying slightly Jake had decided he wasn't going to die under ground and he had come up with a poorly constructed plan that had quickly fallen apart. Feeling more lonely than ever Jake stared at his blood and grime smeared face in the large bathroom mirror and second guessed his decision to continue to evade the FBI.

"Peter would still help you." Jake told his refection. "Assuming he survived."

Shrugging off that option since he knew it would only end in prison Jake turned on the waterfall shower and stepped under the heavy flow fully dressed. The water helped soften the infection that had bonded his shirt to his skin but he still had to tear open the shirt to get it off. Crying out in pain Jake dropped to the marble floor of the shower as he doubled over with a was of nausea. With the warm water cascading down on him Jake still couldn't keep from shivering. With the brand reopened Jake just let the blood run down his chest and down the drain. Leaning against the cold shower wall Jake took a few deep breaths as he fought breaking down in to tears.

It took a while but eventually the soothing water calmed both Jake's body and mind. Using the same will that had kept him alive this long Jake got back to his feet and removed the rest of his clothes before using one of the multiple soaps available to clean himself up. Even before the Labyrinth Jake's life had always been focused on just surviving to the next day so it had just become natural to just fight to keep on his feet no matter what obstetrical was placed in his path. Once out of the shower and dry Jake headed into the near by walk in closet and picked out a new pair of jeans a dark shirt. The clothing was a little tight but it would do.

When Jake stepped back out of the closet the pug was waiting for him. Stooping down Jake rubbed between his soft ears. The pug leaned happily into the affection, panting heavily as he struggled to breathe through his pushed up nose. Smiling Jake picked up the compact dog and carried him into the bed room. Sitting on the edge of the bed Jake held the dog in his lap and stroked at his fur.

"I like your dog."

Jake turned and looked at the man bound and gagged on the bed. The thin framed man in his upper forties stared up at Jake with pale green eyes that were wide with terror. He was so paralyzed with fear that he didn't even try to pull at the torn sheets that Jake had used to restrain him. Jake put the dog down on the bed and the pug went right over to his master and licked his face before curling up next to him.

"He's worthless for home defense though." Jake noted.

The man managed a muffled pleading whimper.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Jake assured. "Not if I don't have to. However I do want to talk. You're not going to scream, right?"

The man shook his head.

"Good. I'd hate to have to kill you in front of your dog."

Jake had just been trying to emphasize his point to make sure the man didn't scream but he regretted it when the man's eyes suddenly rolled back to white as he passed out at the mere threat of violence. Jake shook his head with a noise of frustration. Jake hadn't been sure exactly what was going to happen when he'd come to this particular house, but none of this had been part of his poorly conceived plan. It only took the man a minute to regain consciousness and once Jake was sure he wasn't going to pass out he carefully removed the gag.

"What's your name?" Jake asked.

"Den….Dennis."

"How long have you lived here, Dennis?"

"I…uh…" Dennis struggled to answer in his panic "ten years maybe?"

"Damn it." Jake sighed. "Did you buy it from York?"

"No…I…What?" Dennis asked confused.

"Do you know York? Does he live around here?" Jake pressed. "It was so long ago but I could have sworn this was the house."

"I don't know anyone named York, I swear. Walker, I bought the house from Charles Walker." Dennis replied in a desperate attempt to appease his captor. "He's a big shot philanthropist…if it's money you want I have…"

"Shut up." Jake snapped before he paused in thought "...'I have so much money I give it away'."

Jake recalled the bragging line that York often used on branded men who tried to bribe their way out of the Labyrinth. It would make sense that York wouldn't use his real name in the Labyrinth and that he might have just snatched his pseudonym from the very city that he felt he owned. Jake leaned over and picked up the cell phone that he had taken away from Dennis when he'd first broken into the house.

"Can I see a picture of Walker using this?" Jake asked hold up the phone.

Dennis nodded.

"How?"

Dennis furrowed his brow but quickly decided against asking Jake why he didn't know how to use the phone and just walked him through it. Bringing up the website for Light for the Lost Jake stared at the smiling picture of York. While playing the face of the non profit organization he had a warm smile but his eyes were still held the glint of the cold merciless tormentor that he truly was. Failing on his own outside the safety of the Labyrinth Jake had come back to the house where all his troubles had started without knowing if he was going to try and murder York or if he was going to beg him for help. Seeing his imaged plastered across the site proclaiming to help the lost Jake made his decision as he recalled another phrase the York loved to use.

"No mercy, no forgiveness."


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: this was a tough one to write but I think you'll enjoy ;)

 

Chapter Eighty-three

Having eventually pulled his stomach back under control but still hiding in the bathroom Neal found himself staring at his reflection. Looking at the near stranger he fought to reconcile his current appearance with his memory of his own self image. He had grown used to the sharper features as his already angular cheek and jaw was further exaggerated by his weight loss. The monochromatic effect of his now near alabaster completion contrasting with his hair that had gone from deep brown to true onyx didn't phase him anymore. Even the ever changing colors his various bruises and the scar that gave him a streak of pink under his left eye felt completely normal now. The piece that didn't fit was the one aspect that was staring back at him, something that he felt couldn't have changed but at the same time must have because it felt so alien.

 _'I know what you're thinking.'_ Jake's voice rang out sympathetically. _'And the answer is: yes, your eyes used to be bluer.'_

Closing his washed out eyes Neal tried and failed to get Jake out of his head. He told himself it was just a trick of the light or even just his own eyesight failing him that had drained the color.

 _'You think it's just physical weight you lost in the Labyrinth?'_ Jake asked pragmatically. _'The Labyrinth takes a far higher toll than just the body and eyes are the windows to the soul. Souls are made of glass, Neal, once shattered you can glue them back together again but they will never be the same and there will always be missing pieces.'_

Neal was determined to ignore the delusion that was tormenting him but he couldn't help but feel that was Jake was right. Despite surviving, despite escaping he still felt broken. The fact that his self doubt and demons were physically manifesting themselves in the powerful hallucination of his former tormentor was just more proof to him that Jake had a valid point. Opening his eyes Neal looked over at the image of Jake lounging casually in the empty bathtub.

_'What was it Peter used to tell you about what you could be?'_

"A con or a man." Neal whispered.

 _'You'll never be either now.'_ Jake said coldly. _'You're just a shadow of both.'_

Neal stared at Jake in horror.

_'Ooooo, just struck a nerve didn't I? You never knew what you were before and now you're a shadow of yourself. All the the sun is going to do is make that more stark. At least in the gloom of the Labyrinth you could hide your new darkness. You're never going to be the confident carefree creature you once were. Hell, you'll be lucky if manage to resist the temptation to swan dive off your balcony before the weeks out.'_

Locked in the delusion Neal started trembling at the idea of losing his life at his own hand after having fought so hard to keep someone else from taking it from him. As far as suicide was from his mind right now he could more easily see his pain and fear driving him to it more clearly than he could visualize ever feeling safe and healthy again. Absently mindedly reaching over his shoulder under his shirt Neal dug his nails into an itch that had started to suddenly burn. Neal furrowed his brow as his nails caught something in his skin causing a flash of pain.

Bringing his hand down Neal's breath hissed across his teeth as he stared down at the crimson blood staining his fingertips. Sitting in the blood a sliver of glass sparkled in the gore. Neal froze as he flashed back to the moment he had received the devastating injury during his first disastrous fight. When it had happened Neal hadn't known exactly what had happened, there had just been an explosion of incapacitating and seemingly sourceless pain. He had known that he still needed to fight but all he could do was scream helplessly and cower from his opponent until the bell saved him. Bile rose to the back of Neal's throat as adrenaline washed into his system at the sickening memory of Peter spending hours ripping bloody glass out of his flesh.

Locked in the nightmares of the past Neal jolted when Jake suddenly started coughing violently from his place in the bathtub. Looking up from the blood on his hand Neal watched as Jake struggled for breath. The delusion had become so real that Neal forgot his own pain for a moment as he stepped forward to help. Neal stopped dead in his tracks when Jake started coughing up an unnatural amount of water. With water running off his chin like a fountain Jake looked up at Neal with a terrified panic in his dark eyes. It was the exact same look that he had given Neal up through the water when Neal had been holding him down

 _'Neal…please, help me.'_ Jake begged through the endless water flow. _'Neal…Neal, please…'_

With madness pressing down on him Neal was paralyzed.

"Neal, please…please, open the door."

Neal jerked as Jake's final plea had not been his own voice. It took Neal a second to realize that the voice he'd just heard was real and belonged to Mozzie on the far side of the bathroom door. Snapped out of his daze by a solid connection to the present Neal turned and opened the door. Seeing Mozzie's concern Neal forced a smile as he tried to shrug off the alarming spell he'd fallen over and move forward. As much as he had wanted Mozzie to leave earlier it helped to have someone with him that could keep him grounded in reality.

"Are you okay?" Mozzie asked nervously.

"I just ate too much." Neal explained.

"The doctor did say your stomach was going to be delicate for a while." Mozzie nodded as he went along with the obvious lie.

"Please don't tell Elizabeth, I don't want her thinking it was her cooking."

"Mum's the word." Mozzie promised. "…are you bleeding?"

"What?" Neal looked down at the blood on his hand. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"I've been bleeding for months, I know how much I can lose." Neal replied with a colder edge to his voice than he'd meant.

"I just think maybe…"

"It's nothing."

Neal hated the way Mozzie winced at his hard tone but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Trying to prove to them both that the blood wasn't an issue Neal turned on the faucet to wash it off. Biting his tongue to keep his stomach under control Neal forced his hands under the running water and fought not to think about holding Jake under. Even though he hadn't gone through with drowning Jake Neal was still deeply disturbed by how much satisfaction he had gained in the few seconds that he had managed to inflict some measure of pain and terror on his tormentor. Neal had been so frustratingly helpless against Jake's power and skill that turning the tides had brought him a wash of power. Jake was living proof of just how corrupt that kind of power could be and Neal regretted his taste of it. It was a stain on his heart that he couldn't wash away.

"Uh, Neal?" Mozzie questioned. "I think you're clean."

"What? Oh, right."

Neal yanked his hands out of the running water as if it had suddenly gotten boiling hot. Ignoring the look Mozzie was giving him Neal shook his hands out and went to dry them on his shirt before he stopped himself and remembered to turn and us a towel. Gesturing for Mozzie to step to the side Neal headed back out in the living room. Pacing around he opened the doors to step out on the patio but Jake's words about jumping to his death caused him to back away and close them again. Becoming increasingly exhausted but also on the edge of panic Neal turned to Mozzie.

"I want to steal something." Neal announced.

"Um…okay." Mozzie replied carefully. "Anything in particular?"

"No." Neal shrugged. "How about something off the List?"

"The List? You mean the one we came up with while drunk of our top ten impossible to fence items that we'd want strictly for the challenge and/or private collection? That list?"

"That's the one. How about the Picasso?"

"How about a stick of gum from the corner store?" Mozzie countered.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Mozzie…"

"Put your hand out." Mozzie interrupted.

"What?"

"Put your hand out." Mozzie repeated as he put his own out in demonstration.

Rolling his eyes Neal brought his hand up only to discover it impossible to hold steady.

"That Picasso is protected by a laser grid…"

"Fine." Neal huffed. "Something easier but I'm not settling for anything worth less than a John Singer Sargent."

"I'm more than happy to sit down and plan…"

"I don't want to plan!" Neal barked in sudden flash of anger. "I want to get some control over my life back!"

"Easy, Neal." Mozzie said putting his hands up in a placating manner. "I know it's frustrating, but after what you've been through you need…"

"You don't know *anything* of what I've been through!" Neal snarled passionately as further lost control of his temper. "I blinded a man with my bare hands and then kicked him in the face hard enough to break it, I ground someone's broken bones in my grip till they screamed and cowered at my feet! I held…I…I nearly drown…"

Neal had to stop as his out burst combined with the accompanying hyperventilating threatened to bring him to his knees with vertigo. Mozzie tentatively stepped in to offer his support but Neal jerked away from him. Nearly losing his balance Neal staggered over to one of the chairs around the small dinning room table. Sitting down Neal dragged his shaking hands through his hair before forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Looking over at Mozzie he hated to see his friend looking at him fearfully.

"I'm sorry." Neal said quietly.

"It's okay." Mozzie assured.

"I just need to get through the night."

"I still say we should…"

"Don't say 'call Peter'." Neal interrupted quickly. "It's getting late, he needs sleep."

"So do you."

"I know. Just give me some more time. I'll try laying down soon."

"Okay."

Wishing he could just pass out Neal sighed heavily as he stared down at the wood table. Neal shivered as the grain of the table brought back the memory of Jake playfully pinning him to the table as he mocked him with the empty threat of a violent rape. Frustrated by the plaguing memories Neal tried to focus on the fact that he had survived it all and that he had helped Peter return to Elizabeth. Neal hoped that Peter was doing better than he was tonight. Telling himself that he must be Neal took some comfort in the idea of the reunited couple. Neal had never seen a relationship quite like theirs and he had long admired and at times envied their seemingly effortless love for one another.

Neal looked up as Mozzie slowly approached with a coffee mug that had a steaming liquid in it. The smile Mozzie flashed him looked a little forced as if he was up to something. Neal shook his head at his suspicions and chalked Mozzie's anxiety up to not knowing how to cope with the high stress situation. Forcing a smile of his own Neal accepted the mug.

"What's this?" Neal asked.

"Warm milk." Mozzie replied innocently. "To help you sleep."

"Thank you."

Neal wasn't very enthused about the old home remedy but in an effort to make Mozzie feel better he decided to try it. Taking a sip Neal was instantly struck by the powerfully bitter flavor. Spitting the tainted milk back into the mug violently Neal turned an accusing glare on Mozzie.

"What the hell is this?" Neal demanded. "What's in this?"

"You can taste that?" Mozzie asked with a guilty wince. "I'm sorry, Neal, I was just trying to help."

"What is this?" Neal repeated.

 _'Don't you get it Neal?'_ Jake chuckled as he returned.

"Di..did you try to drug me?" Neal asked shocked.

"Not drug…medicate." Mozzie corrected. "I noticed that you threw away the Alprazolam prescription so I…"

With a surge of rage Neal flung the mug, shattering it against the wall. Jumping to his feet Neal went straight for the door. He didn't know where he would go but he had to get away from here. Mozzie made a noise of panic as he realized that Neal was leaving.

"Neal, no, wait!"

Neal had just reached the door when Mozzie caught up with him. Desperate to stop Neal from leaving Mozzie put his hand on his shoulder, unable to see the blood from the glass against the dark colored fabric. The contact with the recently reopened wound only caused a slight twinge of pain but it was more than enough to set off Neal's new set of instincts.

Without any time for thought Neal whipped around with blinding speed and punched Mozzie in the face.


End file.
